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THE  BOOMERANG 


A  girl,  slim  and  young,  was  standing  timidly  before  him 


THE  BOOMERANG 

A  NOVEL  BASED  ON  THE  PLAY 
OF  THE  SAME  NAME 


BY 

DAVID  GRAY 

Author  of  "Gallops  I,"  "Gallops 
II,"  "Mr.  Carteret,"  etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

NORMAN  PRICE 


NEW  YORK 

THE  CENTURY  CO. 

1918 


Copyright,  1918,  by 
THE  CENTURY  Co 


Published,  October^  1918 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

A  girl,  slim  and  young,  was  standing  tim- 
idly before  him Frontispiece 


PACING 
PAGE 


A  slim,  ungloved  hand  was  thrust  out     ....  8 

"You've  got  this  pretty  bad,''  said  Jerry     ...  96 

Budd's  heart  beat  joyfully 102 

"Joy  and  love,"  he  repeated 174 

''Why,  Budd,"  Grace  exclaimed,  ''you  certainly  have 

changed   a   lot" 200 

The  thing  that  had  twice  before  that  evening  at- 
tacked him  came  back  again 218 

"I  dare  say  that  was  wise,"  he  said  dryly     .      .     .  240 


5762GS 


PART  I 


THE  BOOMERANG 


CHAPTER  I 

AS  the  crowd  streamed  from  the  train  to  the 
Fliielen  steamboat  landing  a  voice  shouted  in 
the  speech  of  the  Vierwaldstatter  and,  receiving  no 
response,  shouted  again.  Now  the  speech  of  the 
four  cantons  is  said  to  resemble  High  German  of 
the  twelfth  century,  but  on  that  account  it  is  not 
more  intelligible. 

Among  those  upon  whose  ears  the  station  offi- 
cial's remarks  fell  were  three  young  men.  As  to 
Mr.  Marchbanks  and  the  Hon.  Augustus  Mildway, 
these  utterances  might  as  well  have  been  made  in 
Choctaw.  However,  they  were  normally  curious 
young  men. 

"Jerry,"  said  Marchbanks,  appealing  to  the  third 
member  of  the  party,  "what  is  the  fellow  trying  to 
say?  Is  it  anything  to  eat  or  drink?" 

"No,"  replied  Jerry.     "Come  along." 

Now  this  answer  on  the  part  of  the  third  young 

man  addressed  as  Jerry  was  a  proper  enough  an- 

3 


4  THE 'BOOMERANG 

swer.  It  was  truthful.  It  was  to  the  point. 
There  were  a  limited  number  of  seats  on  the  boat, 
and  what  seemed  the  entire  floating  population  of 
summer  Switzerland  aimed  to  be  seated  in  them. 
It  was  reasonable  that  if  they  did  not  "come  along" 
they  would  have  to  make  the  voyage  to  Lucerne 
standing.  Yet  something  either  in  Jerry's  tone  or 
manner  stirred  a  suspicion  in  the  minds  of  his 
companions. 

The  station  official's  shouting  was  repeated. 
Mildway  stopped. 

"I  'm  going  to  find  out  about  this,"  he  said. 
"We  may  be  missing  something."  He  addressed 
the  porter  who  was  bearing  his  kit-bag. 

"Somebody  is  sick,"  said  the  porter  in  English. 
"They  want  a  doctor." 

Jerry's  face  showed  exasperation.  Mildway 
grinned  and  seized  one  of  Jerry's  arms. 

"So  that 'sit!"  he  said. 

"Of  course  you  've  got  to  take  the  case,"  said 
Marchbanks,  gravely. 

"It 's  his  JEsculapian  oath,"  said  Mildway. 
"We  're  morally  responsible." 

"Stop  your  nonsense,"  said  Jerry. 

Obviously  here  was  a  potential  case  of  "Le 
medecin  malgre  lui."  There  was  no  doubt  what 
Jerry  intended  to  do.  .ZEsculapian  oath  or  no 


THE  BOOMERANG  5 

^Esculapian  oath,  he  was  going  to  get  a  seat  on  the 
boat.  On  the  other  hand,  to  his  friends  boats  and 
seats  were  minor  considerations.  They  were  at 
the  age  when  the  serious  things  of  life  have  no  ap- 
peal. They  had  a  chance  at  Jerry's  "goat,"  as  he 
would  have  said,  and  they  meant  to  take  it. 

At  this  juncture  the  station  official  came  up,  still 
shouting. 

"Hi!"  called  Marchbanks.  He  pointed  at 
Jerry.  "Artz!  Doctor!" 

"Zo!"  said  the  station  official. 

"Dr.  Sunnier,  famous  American,"  explained 
Mildway,  blandly.  "Best  shot  of  the  season  at 
Monte  Carlo,  very  moderate  horseman,  but  excel- 
lent golfer." 

The  station-master  gazed  blankly.  He  knew  no 
English. 

"Stop  your  ragging!"  said  Jerry,  wrathfully. 

The  official  addressed  him  in  Vierwaldstatter 
German.  Jerry  replied  in  Berlinese.  There 
seemed  to  be  a  deadlock  when  a  middle-aged  Swiss 
gentleman  appeared. 

"May  I  ask  which  of  you  is  a  physician?"  he 
inquired  in  correct  English. 

Simultaneously  Marchbanks  and  Mildway 
thrust  their  companion  forward. 

"This  is  Dr.  Sumner  of  the  United  States  of 


6  THE  BOOMERANG 

America  and  Paris,  France,"  said  Mildway,  cere- 
moniously. "He  would  have  come  at  once,  but 
he  assumed  there  were  others  at  hand  more  mature 
in  the  profession." 

"It  is  nothing  serious,"  said  the  Swiss.  "Any 
doctor  will  do.  My  wife  injured  her  ankle  in 
alighting  from  the  train.  If  you  could  relieve  the 
pain — "  He  paused  and  looked  appealingly  at 
Jerry. 

Jerry  blushed. 

"I  've  never  practised,"  he  said.  "If  there  's 
no  one  else,  of  course  I  '11  do  what  I  can." 

"Go  to  it,"  whispered  Marchbanks.  "They  're 
the  people  who  had  the  girl  with  them.  They  got 
on  two  stations  back.  She  was  a  peach." 

Gerald  cast  dark  looks  at  his  friends  and  fol- 
lowed the  stranger. 

Making  his  way  through  the  crowd  that  sur- 
rounded the  door  of  the  private  office  of  the  res- 
taurant, the  Swiss  knocked.  A  dismal  moan  fol- 
lowed. 

"My  wife  is  very  apprehensive  of  doctors,"  he 
said  gloomily.  "Be  patient  with  her." 

Then  a  girl's  voice  called  to  them  in  German — a 
delightful  voice,  making  that  guttural  tongue  soft 
and  alluring. 

"Is  that  madame?"  asked  Jerry. 


THE  BOOMERANG  7 

"My  niece,"  whispered  the  Swiss.  "She  wishes 
to  know  shall  my  wife  take  her  shoe  and  stocking 
off.  As  I  said,  she  is  apprehensive." 

Jerry  addressed  himself  to  the  unseen  voice. 

"She  'd  better  leave  it  on,"  he  called  in  Ger- 
man. "The  best  thing  is  to  get  her  home  or  to 
some  hotel  as  quickly  as  possible." 

"That 's  what  I  've  told  her,"  the  voice  answered 
from  the  other  side  of  the  door.  "Hot  water  is 
what  she  really  needs." 

The  girl's  voice  was  not  only  delightful,  but  her 
words  indicated  common  sense  and  an  inspiriting 
grasp  of  the  situation.  Jerry  felt  an  instant  confi- 
dence in  her. 

"That's  the  thing,"  he  called.  "There's  no 
fracture?" 

"No,"  came  the  answer.  "I  've  flexed  it.  Just 
a  sprain,  but  very  painful." 

The  wife  moaned  confirmingly.  Jerry  thrust 
his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  brought  out  a  little 
bottle  of  tablets.  "Here 's  some  codeine,"  he 
called.  "They  're  two-grain  tablets.  Give  her 
two,  and  if  the  pain  does  n't  stop  in  twenty  minutes, 
give  her  two  more." 

The  apprehensive,  unseen  wife  moaned  again. 
A  soft  "Danke  schon"  followed;  the  door  opened 
slightly,  and  a  slim,  ungloved  hand  was  thrust  out. 


8  THE  BOOMERANG 

Jerry  deposited  the  bottle  in  it.  For  an  instant  his 
fingers  touched  it.  To  the  sense  of  touch  the  hand 
proved  as  smooth  and  delightful  as  the  voice,  also 
as  sensible  and  efficient  as  its  directing  intelligence. 
The  door  closed  again. 

"I  think  that  will  be  all  right,"  Jerry  said  to  the 
husband.  "Get  a  doctor  as  soon  as  you  can." 
Then  he  beat  his  retreat.  On  the  platform  beside 
the  boat  he  rejoined  his  companions. 

"Did  you  operate?"  inquired  Marchbanks. 

He  answered  with  a  dark  look  which  suggested 
that  he  would  like  to  operate  on  Marchbanks  with 
some  blunt  and  deadly  instrument. 

"I  've  lost  my  toothache  pills,"  he  said. 

"And  that  is  human  gratitude,"  said  Mildway. 
"I  start  him  upon  his  chosen  profession  and  give 
him  a  chance  to  cultivate  a  most  delightful-looking 
lady—" 

"How  about  the  lady?"  Marchbanks  broke  in. 

"I  did  n't  see  her,"  said  Jerry  and  followed  the 
porters  aboard  the  boat. 

"Jerry,"  said  Marchbanks,  when  they  were 
settled  on  the  steamer  deck,  "you  say  you  did  n't 
see  the  girl?" 

Jerry  nodded. 

"And  you  did  n't  notice  her  when  she  got  on  the 
train?"  ' 


A  slim,  ungloved  hand  was  thrust  out 


THE  BOOMERANG  9 

"No." 

"Well,  all  I  can  say,  is  that  it  was  n't  like  you. 
She  was  a  good  deal  out  of  the  common — a  very 
spiritual  type." 

Mildway  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 

"We  '11  draw  Lucerne  for  her,  Marchy.  We  '11 
find  her  for  him.  After  his  service  to  the  family 
it  ought  to  be.  It  must  be.  Like  you,  I  'm  strong 
for  romance." 

"What  makes  you  think  we  '11  find  her  in  Lu- 
cerne?" asked  Jerry. 

"They  had  Lucerne  railway  tickets,"  said  Mild- 
way.  "I  got  that  from  the  station  officer  through 
the  bilingual  porter." 

As  they  steamed  down  the  Lake  of  Uri  the  sub- 
ject was  dropped.  Mildway  became  absorbed  in 
sight-seeing.  He  announced  that  he  was  a  better 
patient  after  beholding  the  Rutli.  Then  they 
passed  Brunnen  and  turned  into  the  main  lake  with 
the  prospect  of  Pilatus  and  Rigi  before  them. 
Toward  sunset  they  reached  Lucerne. 

At  a  quarter  of  eight  that  evening  Marchbanks 
knocked  at  Jerry's  door.  An  absent-minded 
"Herein"  bade  him  enter. 

"We  've  found  your  girl,"  Marchbanks  said  ex- 
citedly. "Mildway  and  I  were  strolling  about,  and 
blessed  if  we  did  n't  run  into  them  coming  up  the 


10  THE  BOOMERANG 

hill  in  a  motor-car.  They  live  in  a  big  house  with 
a  wall  around  the  garden  in  what  you  'd  call  the 
Mayfair  district." 

Jerry  tossed  the  letter  that  he  had  been  reading 
on  to  the  table. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said. 

Marchbanks  shot  him  a  look. 

"I  say,"  he  exclaimed,  "no  bad  news  nor  any- 
thing like  that?"  His  banter  had  gone. 

"No,"  said  Jerry.  "No  one  ill  or  dead.  It 's  a 
letter  from  my  governor.  He  wants  me  to  come 
home." 

Marchbanks  appeared  relieved. 

"But  if  he  's  all  right,  why  go  home?"  he  ob- 
served. "Home  is  a  good  place  to  have  measles." 

"He  wants  me  to  come  home,"  said  Jerry  in  a 
queer  voice,  "and  start  my  practice  of  medicine." 

Marchbanks  gazed  at  him  blankly. 

"Your  practice  of  medicine?"  he  exclaimed. 
"Good  heavens,  man,  you  don't  expect  to  practice 
medicine!" 

"Marchy,"  said  Jerry,  "I  don't  know  what  I  ex- 
pect to  do.  I  've  never  thought  about  it.  Of 
course  I  came  over  with  that  as  a  purpose  and  I  've 
knocked  about  year  after  year  with  that  as  an  ex- 
cuse. I  know  as  well  as  you  do  that  it  would  be 


THE  BOOMERANG  11 

criminal  for  me  to  prescribe  for  a  valuable  dog, 
but  I  can't  write  that  to  the  governor." 

Marchbanks  considered  the  situation  thought- 
fully. Jerry's  attitude  of  mind  perplexed  him. 
He  failed  to  see  why  Jerry  could  n't  write  it  to  his 
governor. 

"He  's  never  been  short  with  you  about  money 
or  anything?"  he  asked. 

Jerry  shook  his  head. 

"That 's  the  trouble.     He  's  been  too  decent." 

"Well,"  said  Marchbanks,  triumphantly,  "he  '11 
be  decent  when  you  tell  him  the  pill  business  is  a 
mistake.  If  you  don't  want  to  write  him,  take  a 
run  over  next  winter  and  have  a  talk.  Tell  him 
you  've  changed  your  mind  about  medicine  and 
think  of  studying  art." 

Jerry  gazed  at  him  hopelessly. 

"You  don't  get  the  idea,"  he  said.  "He  expects 
me  to  come  home  and  stay  there." 

"Oh,  no;  not  as  bad  as  that!"  said  Marchbanks, 
earnestly.  "It  can't  be  anything  like  that,  or  he  'd 
never  have  given  you  such  a  free  hand.  You  don't 
understand  parents.  Now  listen!  What  happens 
is  this:  first,  a  joyless  reception.  Then  the  ex- 
plosion in  the  library,  with  passionate  word  pictures 
of  the  family  plate  sold  and  the  girls  going  out  as 


12  THE  BOOMERANG 

housemaids.  Then  two  days  of  unpleasantness 
after  which  they  're  jolly  glad  to  have  you  get  away 
again.  The  thing  to  do  is  to  shoot  out  the  whole 
horrible  truth  the  first  thing.  It  gets  it  off  your 
mind  and  makes  the  unpleasantness  so  violent  that 
it  can't  last." 

Jerry  shook  his  head.  Somehow  he  could  n't 
picture  himself  telling  the  whole  horrible  truth. 

"You  don't  understand  the  situation,  Marchy," 
he  said.  "The  governor  has  been  so  good  to  me 
that  it  makes  me  ashamed.  I  could  n't  tell  him. 
I  almost  wish  I  'd  worked." 

"But  you  don't  have  to  earn  your  living." 

Jerry  shook  his  head. 

"No,"  he  said:  "but,  you  see  with  us  every  man 
that 's  worth  the  powder  to  blow  him  up  does  some- 
thing." 

"Same  with  us,"  said  Marchbanks.  "Only  we 
prefer  huntin'  and  polo  to  pills  and  law.  Person- 
ally, I  favor  shootin'  and  fishin'.  But  God  knows 
I  'm  no  idler." 

Jerry  laughed. 

"What  you  don't  understand  is  that  nothing  is 
expected  of  you  except  to  decorate  the  land- 
scape, whereas  I  am  expected  to  be  useful.  In 
Elmford,  Marchy,  you  would  be  accounted  a  bad 
lot." 


THE  BOOMERANG  13 

"What  sort  of  place  is  this  Elmford?"  March- 
banks  asked  thoughtfully. 

"Well,"  said  Jerry,  "first  there  's  the  river,  then 
the  railway  station,  then  Main  Street,  then  Elm 
Street,  and  the  square.  There  's  a  bunch  of  old 
families,  a  plow  factory,  a  button  works,  and  the 
Eagle  Hotel.  I  suppose,  all  told,  there  are  about 
thirty  thousand  people  in  the  place.  The  principal 
diversion  is  going  to  New  York." 

"Sounds  rather  awful,"  said  Marchbanks  in  a 
subdued  tone. 

"My  father  loves  it,"  Jerry  went  on.  "I  don't 
know  why  unless  it 's  because  his  father  loved  it. 
My  sister  likes  it  because  she  's  never  lived  any- 
where else.  She  may  marry  the  son  of  the  button 
works  or  the  paying  teller  in  the  bank  or  a  bright 
young  lawyer.  Those  are  the  eligible  dancing 


men." 


"And  I  suppose,"  suggested  Marchbanks,  "that 
you  will  marry  the  daughter  of  the  plow  works 
and  have  twelve  children  and  grow  a  family  physi- 
cian's whiskers." 

"Well,  that's  the  question,"  said  Jerry.  "I 
imagine  it 's  what  the  governor  would  like,  only  the 
family  physician  is  a  little  out  of  the  picture. 
You  've  got  to  know  some  medicine  to  be  a  family 
physician." 


14  THE  BOOMERANG 

"Well,  there  's  only  one  best  way  out  of  it,"  said 
Marchbanks,  sagely,  "and  that  is  not  to  lose  weight 
worrying.  Something  will  turn  up.  You  '11  see. 
And  now  get  washed  and  clad  in  suitable  raiment, 
and  I  '11  scout  for  dinner  and  some  proper  cham- 
pagne." He  moved  toward  the  door,  but  stopped 
before  he  got  there.  "I  say,  old  man,"  he  said 
affectionately,  "there  's  no  chance  of  your  doing 
anything  that  will  interfere  with  the  grouse-shootin' 
next  month?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Jerry  answered.  "The  gov- 
ernor mentions  no  special  time  for  me  to  sail." 

"Well,  you  know  we  are  counting  on  you  from 
August  twelfth  on.  There  are  only  six  guns.  You 
can't  run  out.  The  family  would  never  speak  to 
me  if  you  did." 

"The  Lord  knows  I  don't  want  to,"  Jerry  an- 
swered. 

"Well,  that 's  a  date,  as  you  say,"  said  March- 
banks,  "whatever  happens."  He  went  out. 

Ten  minutes  after  he  had  gone  Jerry  was  still 
sitting  by  the  window  with  his  father's  letter  before 
him.  He  knew  that  he  had  come  to  a  parting  of 
the  ways.  The  sign  on  the  cross-roads  was  plainly 
labeled.  He  loved  his  father.  He  could  not  con- 
ceive not  loving  him,  for  his  father  had  always  be- 
haved in  an  altogether  lovable  manner  toward  him. 


THE  BOOMERANG  15 

Yet  he  was  not  at  all  ready  to  leave  the  roving, 
cosmopolitan  life  of  Europe  that  he  had  drifted 
into.  He  was  aware  that  the  picture  that  he  had 
drawn  of  Elmford  for  Marchbanks  was  far  from  a 
veracious  one.  There  was  much  that  was  delight- 
ful about  Elmford;  yet,  compared  with  Paris  and 
London  and  the  things  they  implied,  Elmford  ex- 
cited no  compelling  hold  upon  his  heartstrings. 
All  the  tentacles  of  his  daily  life  for  eight  years 
clung  to  Europe  and  ached  in  protest  at  the  pros- 
pect of  being  torn  loose  and  told  to  fasten  upon  the 
little  New  England  city. 

Emile,  his  valet,  came  softly  in  with  hot  water, 
arranged  a  tin  bath-tub,  and  lighted  the  candles. 
He  surveyed  his  work,  saw  that  it  was  good,  and 
paused  before  departing. 

"Is  there  anything  monsieur  wishes?"  he  asked. 

Jerry  rose  abruptly  and  squared  his  shoulders. 

"Emile,"  he  said,  "do  you  want  to  go  to  America 
with  me?" 

"Mais  oui"  the  man  answered  promptly.  "Is 
it  permitted  that  I  inquire  when  we  start?" 

"To-morrow,"  was  the  answer.  "Cook's  will 
still  be  open.  Get  tickets  and  accommodations  on 
the  first  ship  we  can  make  from  Cherbourg  or 
Southampton."  He  took  a  handful  of  notes  from 
his  pocket-book.  "And  you  need  n't  mention  our 


16  THE  BOOMERANG 

leaving  to  Mr.  Marchbank's  servant,"  he  added. 

"Bien,  Monsieur,"  said  Emile  and  departed. 

Jerry  began  to  take  off  his  clothes  with  a  mixture 
of  emotions.  In  the  main  it  was  a  sense  of  relief, 
almost  elation,  that  possessed  him.  He  had  known 
that  the  break  would  have  to  be  made  sometime. 
Now  he  had  made  it.  He  was  doing  the  right  thing 
and  he  felt  at  peace.  But  he  shrank  from  further 
argument  with  Marchbanks.  In  a  fashion  March- 
banks  represented  those  eight  delightful  years  of 
luxurious  drifting  and  playing  at  work.  March- 
banks  in  the  present  situation  was  the  tempter.  He 
must  flee  from  him.  He  dined  with  his  friends 
and  talked  shooting  till  midnight.  Then  he  went 
to  his  room  and  scribbled  a  note  for  Marchbanks: 

I  'm  off  in  the  morning.  I  Ve  got  to  do  it.  If  I 
can  get  back  for  August  12  I  '11  cable.  Love  to  Mildway. 
Help  each  other  to  be  moderately  good,  and  if  you  meet 
the  beautiful  niece  marry  her  and  wire  me  about  it. 

G.  S. 

His  impulse  had  been  to  cable  his  father  that  he 
was  sailing,  but  on  second  thought  he  decided 
against  it.  They  would  meet  him  in  New  York, 
kill  the  fatted  calf,  and  generally  make  a  fuss  over 
him.  He  wanted  nothing  of  that  sort.  It  would 
be  hard  enough  to  explain  that  he  was  a  failure  at 


THE  BOOMERANG     |  17 

medicine  without  any  of  the  welcome-home  stuff. 
When  he  arrived  he  would  arrive,  and  that  was  all 
there  was  to  it. 


CHAPTER  II 

FORTY-EIGHT  hours  later  Jerry  boarded  the 
Aquitanic.  The  first  supporting  flush  of 
conscious  virtue  had  died  in  him  like  drink.  He 
felt  like  an  extradited  man,  going  home  to  face  life 
imprisonment.  He  saw  joy  nowhere  or  any  pros- 
pect of  joy.  He  understood  the  feeling  of  the 
prodigal  son  on  his  return  trip. 

The  passenger  list  held  no  name  that  he  knew. 
His  first  inspection  of  his  fellow-passengers  deep- 
ened his  gloom.  Fate  and  the  second  steward  had 
determined  his  place  at  table  and  apparently 
neither  had  been  kind.  On  his  left  was  a  citizen 
of  Chillicothe,  returning  from  a  German  cure. 
This  man  talked  of  nothing  but  diabetes.  On  his 
right  was  a  shoe  salesman  who  talked  of  nothing 
but  shoes.  Opposite  sat  a  stout  lady  who  never 
spoke  at  all.  Her  enthusiasms  ran  to  food. 

"This  is  going  to  be  a  pleasant  voyage,"  he  said 
to  himself,  gloomily.  By  lunch  time  on  the  second 
day  the  single  interest  he  had  been  able  to  arouse 
in  his  fellow-beings  was  in  the  stout  lady's  system 
of  transporting  food  around  the  promontory  of  her 

18 


THE  BOOMERANG  19 

chest.  It  was  not  a  large  interest,  but  a  genuine 
one.  The  system  depended  upon  a  rhythmical 
bending  forward  to  meet  the  approaching  mouth- 
ful that  seemed  like  the  measured  swing  of  oars- 
men. While  watching  her  discreetly  from  the 
corner  of  his  eye,  he  suddenly  observed  that  when 
she  was  at  full  reach  there  was  disclosed  a  momen- 
tary vista  of  the  table  diagonally  beyond.  Now 
the  central  feature  of  this  vista  was  a  girl's  head  in 
profile.  It  was  not  a  commonplace  profile.  A 
mass  of  black  hair  was  drawn  neatly  from  the  nape 
of  the  neck,  disclosing  a  pleasant  ear.  A  little 
nose  started  skyward,  but  stopped  at  exactly  the 
right  point.  The  corner  of  the  mouth,  which  was 
all  he  could  see  of  that  feature,  was  entirely  de- 
lightful. 

His  interest  immediately  shifted  from  the  stout 
lady's  transportation  system,  but  unfortunately  as 
she  finished  the  course  and  straightened  up  she 
blocked  the  vista.  While  waiting  for  the  next 
course  Jerry  considered  his  discovery  from  the 
point  of  view  of  a  philosopher.  Experience  told 
him  that  the  promise  of  such  a  profile  was  not  likely 
to  be  fulfilled.  He  recalled  bitter  instances.  His 
life  had  been  a  series  of  just  such  disappointments. 
He  debated  the  advisability  of  suppressing  his  curi- 
osity as  to  the  frontal  aspect  of  the  face.  Why 


20  THE  BOOMERANG 

not  preserve  it  always  in  profile?  Why  take 
chances?  A  Solomon,  a  Socrates,  would  let  well 
enough  alone.  Acting  on  the  dictates  of  philoso- 
phy, he  left  the  table  before  the  stout  lady  had 
finished,  and  retreated  to  the  smoking-room  for 
coffee. 

The  next  morning  some  decent-looking  chaps  in- 
vited him  to  play  bridge,  and  he  played  two  agree- 
able rubbers  with  a  loss  of  twenty-six  dollars. 
The  third  rubber  he  cut  out  and  was  not  sorry  as 
he  was  holding  unimaginably  bad  cards.  He 
found  a  seat  on  the  transom  where  the  sun  streamed 
in,  and  retired  into  his  own  thoughts.  It  was  ap- 
proaching noon.  If  Marchbanks  and  Mildway 
held  to  their  program  they  were  at  this  moment  on 
the  beach  at  Trouville.  He  could  see  it  all  in  his 
mind's  eye — the  color,  the  life,  the  gaiety.  Pres- 
ently two  Jerrys  seemed  to  be  contemplating  the 
scene.  One  longed  to  be  sitting  on  the  warm  sand 
with  the  sense  of  reckless  enjoyment  that  idleness 
and  luxury  bring  to  youth.  The  other  was  shaking 
his  head  doubtfully.  Echoes  of  a  Puritan  heredity 
were  whispering  searching  questions.  What  did 
that  pleasant  life  lead  to?  Why  did  the  old-look- 
ing middle-aged  men  who  had  lived  it  from  boy- 
hood have  the  faces  they  had?  Why  were  they  al- 


THE  BOOMERANG  21 

ways  bored?  Why  did  they  talk  as  if  life  was  over 
at  fifty?  Why  were  the  women  always  having 
nerves  and  jumping  out  of  high  windows?  There 
was  something  wrong  about  it. 

As  these  men  were,  so  would  Marchbanks  be 
after  thirty  years  of  pleasure-hunting;  so  would 
Jerry  be  if  he  kept  along  with  them.  It  was  not  a 
pleasant  outlook.  There  must  be  a  better  way. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  there  was  something  in  strain  and 
effort,  something  in  the  old-fashioned  virtues  that 
Marchbanks  smiled  at.  The  men  who  got  the  most 
fun  out  of  life  were  those  who  worked  and  enjoyed 
work.  They  won  going  and  coming,  for  their 
work  made  their  play  enjoyable.  Why  had  he 
been  such  a  fool?  Why  had  n't  he  seen  so  obvi- 
ous a  fact?  Why  had  n't  he  worked  with  a  little 
seriousness?  What  made  the  situation  worse  was 
the  impossibility  of  shielding  his  father  from  the 
consequences  already  accrued  and  taking  the  whole 
thing  on  his  own  shoulders,  where  it  belonged. 
The  truth  would  hit  the  governor  hard.  There  was 
no  dodging  that.  He  would  have  to  make  it  up 
to  him  in  other  ways.  Various  plans  to  this  end 
began  to  shape  themselves  in  his  mind.  He  would 
learn  business  so  as  to  take  up  the  management 
of  the  family  estate.  He  would  forswear  woman 


22  THE  BOOMERANG 

and  devote  his  life  to  filial  piety.  Somehow  in 
some  way  he  would  make  good  at  something  even 
though  he  had  failed  at  medicine. 

However,  a  man  of  thirty-two  with  abounding 
health  and  sufficient  money  is  not  able  to  keep  his 
mind  on  repentance  indefinitely.  When  the  third 
officer  came  in  and  announced  the  run,  he  found 
himself  winner  of  the  hat  pool,  amounting  to 
twenty-one  pounds.  The  turn  of  his  gambling  luck 
cheered  him.  It  also  reminded  him  that  the  higher 
philosophy  is  not  to  cry  over  spilled  milk  or  to 
cross  bridges  till  one  comes  to  them. 

As  the  bugle  blew  for  lunch,  he  stepped  out  upon 
the  deck.  There  was  a  game  of  throwing  rope 
rings  in  progress,  conducted  by  two  young  men  and 
a  girl.  The  first  glance  identified  the  girl.  It  was 
she  of  the  profile.  The  first  glance  also  refuted 
those  warning  dictates  of  experience.  She  was 
all  the  profile  had  suggested,  perhaps  more. 

Academically  Jerry  was  an  advocate  of  blondes. 
He  had  been  born  that  way;  yet  he  was  open- 
minded.  What  he  saw  now  convinced  him  that 
there  are  indeed  two  sides  to  the  question.  Ele- 
mentally it  was  a  manifestation  of  superabundant 
youth  speaking  through  the  curves  of  a  lithe  body, 
through  color  that  flushed  under  a  golden  skin, 
through  eyes  that  danced  with  the  zest  of  the  game: 


THE  BOOMERANG  23 

and  the  game  was  not  putting  rope  rings  over  a 
stick. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  the  vision  was  bad  at  that. 
But  one  look  at  the  young  men  indicated  the  direc- 
tion of  her  talents.  They  were  subjugated,  ab- 
ject, ridiculous,  and  all  this  on  the  third  day  out! 
She  finished  throwing  the  rings,  which  one  of  the 
victims  of  love  handed  her,  without  looking  at  the 
new-comer;  yet  Jerry  knew  that  she  had  inspected 
him,  and  that  the  inspection  was  complete.  As  to 
what  her  verdict  was  she  gave  no  intimation. 
When  the  game  of  rings  was  finished,  she  smiled 
upon  each  young  man  individually  and  vanished. 

Now  to  man  generally  the  manifestation  of  youth 
and  loveliness  in  the  human  female  is  not  only  an 
agreeable  phenomenon,  but  a  stimulant.  Jerry 
had  done  pretty  well  with  philosophy  and  health 
in  dispelling  the  gloom  that  was  logically  his  por- 
tion, but  he  now  found  further  assistance.  The 
problem  that  awaited  him  at  his  journey's  end  was 
no  nearer  solution,  but  the  effect  of  stimulated 
heart  action  was  to  make  it  seem  less  important. 
It  is  thus  that  woman  tends  to  maintain  the  life  of 
man  in  hopeful  perspective.  It  was  thus  that 
Jerry,  in  full  possession  of  his  faculties  and  as  it 
were  with  wilful  intent,  became,  as  they  say,  inter- 
ested in  the  young  lady  in  question. 


24  THE  BOOMERANG 

Early  in  the  afternoon  he  observed  signs  that 
the  established  order  of  things  as  regards  the  young 
men  and  the  object  of  their  worship  had  undergone 
certain  dislocations.  First  one  then  the  other  of 
the  love-birds  wandered  into  the  smoking-room, 
lighted  cigarettes,  and  ordered  whisky  and  soda. 
Obviously  she  had  withdrawn  herself.  At  the  end 
of  the  rubber  he  cut  out  and  reconnoitered  the 
decks.  After  some  search  he  found  her  in  her 
chair  on  the  port  side,  amidships,  reading  to  her 
mother.  He  passed  on  with  an  inward  chuckle. 
He  knew  what  the  business  of  reading  to  mother 
meant.  She  was  through  with  the  love-birds.  As 
a  collector  she  was  interested  in  new  specimens, 
and  for  the  moment  he  happened  to  be  the  speci- 
men. He  went  back  and  watched  the  card-playing, 
chewing  the  cud  of  his  observations  and  making 
wise  plans. 

Ten  minutes  later  some  one  put  his  head  in  the 
doorway  and  announced  ice  on  the  port  bow.  He 
went  out  to  the  deck  again  and  made  his  way  for- 
ward to  the  place  where  their  chairs  were  placed. 
The  mother  was  there,  but  the  vision's  chair  was 
empty.  He  joined  the  throng  of  passengers  gazing 
seaward,  and  suddenly  discovered  her  just  in  front 
of  him  against  the  rail.  He  edged  his  way 
through  the  crowd  till  he  stood  beside  her.  He 


THE  BOOMERANG  25 

had  determined  to  pick  an  acquaintance  and  he  ex- 
pected difficulty  at  first.  The  afternoon  sun  broke 
through  the  clouds  and  slanted  down  upon  the  ice- 
berg. A  gale  was  blowing,  and  the  seas  broke 
high  on  the  desolate  thing.  Suddenly  she  turned 
and  said  casually: 

"It 's  wonderful,  is  n't  it?" 

He  was  inclined  to  gasp,  but  did  n't. 

"Yes,"  he  said.  "Amazing."  He  felt  the 
adjective  applied  to  the  girl  as  much  as  to  the 
iceberg. 

"We  saw  four  on  the  last  trip  over,"  she  went 
on.  "The  captain  said  we  just  missed  running 
into  one  in  the  fog  off  the  Banks." 

"You  came  over  in  the  Aquitanic?"  he  asked 

"Yes,  just  for  the  voyage."  She  glanced  over 
her  shoulder  at  her  mother  in  her  chair  against  the 
deck-house  as  if  to  intimate  that  it  was  on  her  ac- 
count. Then  she  resumed  her  gaze  seaward. 

"Lonely-looking  thing,"  he  ventured  presently. 

She  nodded. 

"It  makes  me  think  of  McDowell's  'Wandering 
Iceberg.'  Do  you  know  it?" 

"No,"  he  said.  He  was  uncertain  whether  Mc- 
Dowell was  a  poet,  painter,  musician,  or  iceman, 
but  he  took  a  chance  and  won.  "Do  you  play  it?" 

"I  play  at  it,"  she  answered. 


26  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  should  like  to  hear  it,"  he  said. 

She  made  no  answer,  but  turned  again  toward  her 
mother  and  waved  her  hand.  Presently  she  said: 

"I  hope  the  captain  keeps  well  to  the  south.  I 
should  hate  to  run  into  one." 

"They  say  drowning  is  not  unpleasant,"  Jerry 
remarked,  "but  I  'm  against  it  in  cold  water." 

She  laughed,  shuddered  delightfully,  took  a  last 
look  at  the  drifting  ice,  and  moved  back  toward 
her  chair.  Her  novel  slipped  from  under  her  arm 
and  fell  to  the  deck. 

Jerry  picked  it  up,  returned  it  to  her,  and  re- 
ceived thanks. 

"May  I  help  you  with  your  rug?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  said ;  "I  can  manage  my  own  rug. 
I  'm  not  as  helpless  as  that." 

But  he  tucked  her  in  while  the  mother,  a  sweet- 
faced,  weary-looking  woman,  smiled  vaguely  on 
him.  Then  he  bowed  and  took  his  leave.  As  he 
reentered  the  smoking-room  he  said  to  himself: 

"By  this  time  to-morrow  afternoon,  Sumner,  you 
shall  have  heard  'The  Wandering  Iceberg'  ren- 
dered on  the  piano  in  the  ladies'  sitting-room. 
You  are  not  doing  badly."  His  manner  was  jubi- 
lant. His  impression  of  the  lady  was  that  she  was 
"some  girl." 

The  next  morning  he  breakfasted  late.     The 


THE  BOOMERANG  27 

stout  lady  had  finished  and  gone,  but  in  the  open 
vista  there  was  no  profile.  After  he  had  fortified 
the  inner  man  he  went  on  deck  to  scout.  The  two 
chairs  on  the  port  side,  amidships,  were  vacant,  nor 
were  any  books,  pillows,  or  rugs  in  evidence.  He 
made  a  tour  of  the  three  passenger  decks,  found 
nothing,  and  retired  to  the  smoking-room,  where  the 
auction-players  were  waiting  for  him.  As  he  ar- 
ranged his  cards  he  tried  to  account  for  the  empty 
chairs.  As  tactics  the  move  was  new  to  him. 

At  lunch  he  had  a  mere  glimpse  of  her.  She 
was  not  in  her  place  when  the  stout  lady's  bendings 
first  opened  the  view,  but  appeared  suddenly  while 
the  Chillicothean  was  holding  forth  on  diabetic 
breads.  Then  the  stout  lady  remained  static  for  a 
long  period,  and  when  the  view  next  opened,  the 
profile  was  gone.  Another  inspection  of  the  decks 
showed  the  chairs  still  unoccupied.  Clearly  some- 
thing was  wrong.  He  detected  one  of  the  lovers 
loafing  mournfully  in  the  vicinity.  This  made  him 
feel  safe,  and  he  wenc  on  to  the  smoking-room  for 
his  coffee.  All  afternoon  he  played  cards,  trusting 
to  the  movements  of  the  love-birds  for  infor- 
mation. One  or  the  other  strolled  out  of  the  place 
from  time  to  time,  but  returned  shortly,  and  so  he 
knew  that  the  chairs  were  still  empty.  Dinner 
came,  and  she  made  no  appearance.  Thus  the  day 


28  THE  BOOMERANG 

passed,  and  he  had  not  heard  "The  Wandering  Ice- 
berg." He  was  baffled.  He  engaged  one  of  the 
love-birds  in  conversation,  but  was  able  to  gather 
no  information.  The  bird  was  as  ignorant  of  the 
cause  of  the  disappearance  as  himself  and  much 
more  upset  about  it. 

The  next  day  and  the  next  and  two  more  passed, 
and  the  absence  of  the  vision  continued  and  re- 
mained unexplained.  The  love-birds,  realizing 
that  life  is  short,  buried  their  sorrows  and  sought 
consolation,  one  in  the  deserted  wife  of  a  bridge- 
player,  the  other  in  drink.  Jerry  played  cards 
with  varying  fortune,  and  the  voyage  drew  to  an 
end. 

The  evening  of  the  seventh  day  as  he  was  think- 
ing of  bed,  the  ship's  doctor  strolled  into  the  smok- 
ing-room, dropped  into  the  seat  beside  him  and 
proposed  a  nightcap.  Now  the  doctor  was  a 
County  Meath  man,  and  discovering  that  Jerry  had 
hunted  a  winter  from  Navan,  his  heart  warmed, 
and  it  was  past  midnight  before  they  killed  their 
last  fox  and  faced  the  idea  of  turning  in. 

"By  the  way,"  said  Jerry, — as  he  rose  to  say 
good  night  an  idea  had  come  to  him, — "do  you 
happen  to  know  what  has  become  of  that  pleasant- 
looking,  dark-haired  girl?  Did  she  fall  over- 
board?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  29 

"Are  you  inquirin'  as  a  friend  of  the  family?" 
asked  the  doctor. 

"It  might  be  that  way,"  said  Jerry. 

"Then  I  '11  be  tellin'  ye  in  confidence  that  her 
mother  is  an  ill  woman." 

"What 's  the  matter  with  her?" 

"Begad,  I  wish  I  knew  that.  She  says  it's  a 
heart  attack,  but  to  save  me  soul  I  can't  find  any- 
thing wrong  there.  She  just  lies  and  moans  and 
frightens  the  pretty  daughter  nigh  to  death.  If 
there  was  a  medical  man  among  the  passengers, 
I  'd  have  him  in." 

Jerry  grinned.     The  temptation  was  strong. 

The    Irishman    looked    at    him    searchingly. 

"  You  're  not  of  the  profession  yourself?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"I  've  got  a  sheepskin." 

"Then,  by  the  powers,  ye  must  see  the  woman  in 
the  morning.  I  '11  no  longer  bear  the  responsi- 
bility alone.  At  least  ye  can  cheer  up  the  girl." 

"I  'm  afraid  it  would  n't  do,"  Jerry  answered. 
"I  don't  practise.  Besides,  the  voyage  is  nearly 


over." 


"Of  course  it  will  do,"  the  Irishman  insisted. 
"I  '11  come  for  ye  at  half -past  ten  in  the  morning. 
And  now  good  night." 

And  so  it  came  about  that  at  twenty  minutes  of 


30  THE  BOOMERANG 

eleven  the  next  morning,  despite  more  remon- 
strances and  certain  qualms  of  conscience,  he  fol- 
lowed Dr.  Rafferty  into  the  sick  woman's  state- 
room. The  vision,  who  was  sitting  on  the  tran- 
som reading,  looked  up  and  eyed  him  with  an  air  of 
mixed  amazement  and  what  he  took  to  be  suspicion. 
He  felt  himself  blushing  guiltily.  He  regretted 
that  he  had  undertaken  the  adventure.  He  knew 
that  she  knew  why  he  had  come  and  believed  that 
he  was  no  doctor  at  all,  which  was  almost  the 
truth. 

"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Tyler,"  called  Rafferty, 
heartily.  "I  'm  bringing  Dr.  Sumner  to  see  ye,  a 
famous  heart  specialist  who  happened  to  be  crossin' 
with  us,  and  I  '11  have  the  pleasure  of  introducin' 
him  to  you,  my  dear  young  lady,  though  I  pray 
the  saints  ye  '11  have  no  need  of  his  professional 


services." 


Hie  vision,  now  identified  as  Miss  Grace  Tyler, 
bowed  stiffly.  Jerry  avoided  her  eye  and  ad- 
dressed himself  to  the  invalid.  It  was  necessary 
that  he  should  be  as  professional  as  possible. 

"As  I  understand,"  he  said,  "you  came  for  the 
rest  and  quiet  of  the  voyage?" 

She  nodded  weakly. 

"And  you  were  taken  ill  almost  at  once?" 

"While  coming  down  the  bay,"  she  answered 


THE  BOOMERANG  31 

wearily.  "Then  I  got  better  and  was  very  well 
till  this  new  attack.  I  've  always  enjoyed  the  sea," 
she  added.  "My  husband  had  a  schooner  yacht, 
and  we  went  everywhere." 

"Excuse  me,"  said  Jerry,  "but  did  you  ever  have 
an  attack  like  this  on  land?"  A  new  interest  in 
the  case  seemed  to  have  come  to  him. 

The  sick  woman  nodded. 

"Was  n't  it  the  time  we  went  out  to  Santa  Bar- 
bara?" she  answered,  appealing  to  her  daughter. 

The  girl  nodded. 

"And  you  had  another  one  coming  back?"  sug- 
gested Jerry. 

"Yes,"  said  the  daughter.  "The  doctor  said  it 
was  the  altitude."  Her  manner  seemed  to  be  thaw- 
ing a  little. 

"Well,  there 's  no  altitude  here,"  observed  Dr. 
Rafferty.  "Nothing  but  longitude  and  latitude." 

Jerry  took  the  sick  woman's  pulse,  looked  at  her 
tongue,  and  announced  that  he  would  take  the  lib- 
erty of  making  some  suggestion  to  Dr.  Rafferty. 
He  might  look  in  again  later  in  the  day. 

"Do  you  think  you  can  cure  her?"  the  girl  de- 
manded. 

"I  think  it 's  a  possibility,"  Jerry  answered  mod- 
estly. 

She  looked  at  him  gratefully  and,  as  if  wishing 


32  THE  BOOMERANG 

to  make  amends  for  her  suspicions,  held  out  her 
hand  and  smiled. 

Jerry  took  it.     It  was  a  pleasant  hand  to  take. 

"Don't  be  frightened,"  he  said  cheerily.  "It 's 
nothing  serious." 

When  they  were  on  deck  the  Irishman  accosted 
him. 

"What  do  you  make  of  it?" 

"My  belief,"  said  Jerry,  "is  that  the  good  lady  is 
neither  more  nor  less  than  thoroughly  seasick.  I 
had  an  aunt  that  could  n't  get  aboard  a  street-car 
without  being  taken  the  same  way.  It 's  the  ma- 
chinery. You  see,  a  sailing  vessel  does  n't  bother 
her.  Give  her  the  usual  dope  and  a  little  cham- 
pagne and  cracked  ice,  and  she  '11  be  right  as  rain. 
That 's  the  way  it  was  with  my  aunt." 

"Begad,  I  think  you  're  right.  You  're  a  genius 
at  diagnosis!"  cried  the  doctor. 

"But  don't  tell  her  it  is  n't  heart  disease,"  added 
Jerry.  "And  you  might  call  the  champagne  a 
French  cardiac." 

Raff erty  looked  at  him  and  laughed. 

"Spoken  like  a  king's  physician,"  he  said. 
"You  '11  go  far,  me  boy,  in  our  chosen  profession." 

Jerry  laughed,  but  made  no  explanations.  In 
the  afternoon  he  called  again  at  the  Tylers'  cabin. 


THE  BOOMERANG  33 

The  girl  met  him  at  the  door  with  the  news  that 
the  invalid  was  sleeping. 

"She  's  decidedly  better,"  she  whispered.  "She 
took  some  bouillon  for  lunch." 

"Don't  you  think  you  'd  better  get  up  on  deck 
and  have  some  air?"  he  suggested. 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

"Not  now,  but  perhaps  later.  But  don't  expect 
me."  She  gave  him  a  friendly  smile,  and  Jerry's 
interest  deepened. 

Of  course  Jerry  did  expect  her  and  waited 
about  till  the  first  bugle  blew  for  dinner,  but  it 
was  in  vain.  If  she  came  on  deck,  he  missed  her. 
He  regretted  it.  She  was  a  very  attractive  girl, 
but  he  had  reached  the  philosophical  age.  He  had 
found  that  life  gives  less  trouble  if  man  bows 
gracefully  to  fate,  specially  where  the  ladies  are 
concerned. 

That  night  they  picked  up  Fire  Island  light  and 
were  due  to  dock  before  noon  the  next  day.  Jerry 
was  on  deck  early.  The  hot  calm  of  a  July  morn- 
ing was  on  the  bay.  As  they  passed  quarantine, 
he  stood  by  the  rail,  gazing  at  the  colossal  Liberty 
and  the  weird  sky-line  of  Manhattan  growing  out 
of  the  sunlit  haze.  He  had  heard  men  speak  with 
regret  and  melancholy  of  the  ending  of  a  voyage 


34  THE  BOOMERANG 

and  had  never  understood-  Now  he  began  to 
feel  it  himself.  He  wondered  if  the  prospect  of 
parting  with  the  vision  had  anything  to  do  with  it. 
He  could  not  truthfully  say  it  had.  For  a  week, 
detached  from  past  and  future,  he  had  put  away 
his  troubles  and  lived  agreeably  in  the  day.  But 
now  immediately  ahead  of  him  his  problem  was 
waiting.  There  was  the  rub.  The  pleasant  life  of 
the  past  eight  years  lay  three  thousand  miles  be- 
hind. As  he  gazed  broodingly  at  his  native  land 
he  heard  the  rustle  of  a  woman's  dress  and,  turning, 
confronted  Miss  Tyler.  Her  exuberant  color  had 
faded  somewhat,  but  she  was  still  radiant  with  that 
unquenchable  youth  which  was  so  great  a  part  of 
her  beauty.  Jerry  raised  his  hat. 

"I  hope  your  mother  is  much  better,"  he  said. 

"Very,  very  much,"  she  answered.  "She  is  so 
grateful  to  you.  We  both  feel  that  if  we  had  only 
had  you  at  once  you  would  have  cured  her  at  the 
beginning. 

"I  did  n't  do  anything,"  he  answered.  "Raf- 
ferty  is  the  man  to  thank.  But  I  wish  Mrs.  Tyler 
had  escaped  all  she  has  been  through  for  more  than 
one  reason.  The  calamity  of  the  voyage  was  your 
disappearance  from  society." 

She  flushed  a  little. 

"Yes,  I  believe  that,"  she  said  ironically. 


THE  BOOMERANG  35 

"You  don't  have  to  take  my  word  for  it,"  he 
answered.  "The  ring  game  has  n't  been  out  of  the 
box  since  you  left  us." 

She  laughed,  and  her  color  deepened.  . 

"It 's  the  cruel  fact,"  he  went  on.  "And,  be- 
sides, I  never  heard  'The  Wandering  Iceberg'  and 
now  I  never  shall." 

"You  must  have  a  sister  or  somebody  that 
plays,"  she  suggested. 

"No  somebody.  You  can  guess  my  chance  with 
a  sister." 

"Well,  you  '11  hear  it  somehow." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"No;  that  is  one  of  the  irrevocable  might-have- 
beens." 

"Perhaps  it's  just  as  well,"  she  observed. 
"I  'm  afraid  you  're  not  a  very  serious  person.  It 
would  be  wasted  on  you." 

He  protested  at  that. 

"You  '11  never  know  how  wrong  you  are. 
That 's  my  greatest  regret.  Perhaps  in  the  next 
world  we  '11  meet,  and  you  '11  understand  me  and 
play  for  me." 

"On  a  golden  harp,"  she  suggested. 

"If  you  can  play  iceberg  pieces  on  a  harp." 

She  regarded  him  hesitatingly. 

"I  want  to  ask  you  something,"  she  said.     "I 


36  THE  BOOMERANG 

know  it 's  silly  to  ask  personal  questions  when  I 
shall  probably  never  see  you  again." 

"Ask  away." 

"Mother  was  wondering  whether  by  any  chance 
you  were  Dr.  Gerald  Sumner  of  Elmford,  Con- 
necticut?" 

He  masked  his  surprise. 

"Perhaps  I  ought  to  get  advice  of  counsel  be- 
fore answering,"  he  replied.  "Would  it  be  used 
against  me  if  I  was?" 

"I  can  make  no  promises  as  to  that." 

"Then  I  '11  put  it  another  way.  What  do  you 
know  about  Dr.  Gerald  Sumner  of  Elmford,  Con- 
necticut?" 

"What  every  one  in  Elmford  knows,  that  he  's 
been  studying  abroad  for  eight  years  and  ought  to 
know  everything  about  medicine." 

Jerry  chuckled,  but  as  the  significance  of  her  re- 
mark got  to  him,  it  seemed  less  humorous. 

"So  you  live  in  Elmford?"  he  said. 

"I  did  n't  say  that,"  she  answered  quickly.  "I 
said  I  knew  what  Elmford  people  knew  about  this 
particular  Doctor  Sumner."  She  paused  and 
looked  at  him.  They  were  at  a  deadlock,  neither 
able  to  score. 

"I  '11  tell  you  what  I  '11  do,"  said  Jerry,  propos- 


THE  BOOMERANG  37 

ing  a  compromise.  "I  '11  tell  you  the  truth  if 
you  '11  tell  me  the  truth." 

"All  right,"  she  answered. 

With  an  air  of  mystery  he  said: 

"You  guessed  it.  I  am  Dr.  Gerald  Sumner  of 
Elmford." 

Imitating  his  manner,  she  answered: 

"And  I  live  in  Elmford."  She  met  his  look  and 
giggled.  There  was  another  impasse. 

"I  don't  think  I  can  believe  you,"  he  said  doubt- 
fully. 

"I  know  I  can't  believe  you,"  she  retorted. 

"But  I  can  refer  you  to  the  passenger  list." 

"You  're  down  as  6G.  Sumner,  Paris.' ' 

"And  you  're  down  as  'Mrs.  Tyler  and  daughter, 
U.  S.  A.' " 

"Well,  you  '11  see  if  you  come  to  Elmford,"  she 
said  gaily. 

"Then  I  shall  certainly  see  because  I  'm  cer- 
tainly going  to  Elmford,"  he  answered. 

He  gathered  from  the  change  in  her  expression 
that  some  one  was  approaching  behind  him.  He 
glanced  over  his  shoulder  and  saw  one  of  the  love- 
birds. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "I  suppose  I  must  get  some 
breakfast.  But  remember,  if  I  don't  turn  up  in 


38  THE  BOOMERANG 

Elmford,  I  '11  have  your  harp  all  tuned  and  wait- 
ing in  heaven." 

"And  pick  me  out  a  becoming  halo,"  she  added. 
"That  is,  if  you  don't  appear  in  Elmford." 

He  laughed,  raised  his  hat,  and  left  her. 

"She  's  stalling,  of  course,  about  Elmford,"  he 
thought.  "But  she  must  know  people  there.  I  '11 
find  out  about  her." 

Emile  accosted  him  at  the  foot  of  the  companion- 
way  with  the  information  that  everything  was 
packed. 

"I  suppose  you  'd  like  to  see  something  of  New 
York,"  Jerry  suggested. 

"I  have  a  cousin  who  is  chef,"  replied  Emile, 
hopefully.  "He  lives  in  the  Sixty-fourth  Street, 
East.  He  has  promised  to  show  me  the  town,  as 
he  calls  it." 

"I  '11  tell  you  what  I  '11  do,"  said  Jerry.  "I  'm 
going  to  cut  for  home,  but  I  '11  leave  you  to  get  the 
luggage  through  the  customs,  and  you  can  spend 
the  night  in  town  and  come  on  to  Elmford  to-mor- 
row. Only  don't  let  your  cousin  show  you  too 
much."  Emile  laughed  wisely. 

They  went  down  to  the  state-room  for  final  direc- 
tions; thence  Jerry  proceeded  to  breakfast.  Miss 
Tyler  made  no  further  appearance.  The  ship 
docked  about  ten.  Jerry  was  one  of  the  first  to  get 


THE  BOOMERANG  39 

ashore.  As  he  reached  terra  firma  he  looked  back 
and  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  girl  standing  against 
the  rail  with  a  mass  of  purple  orchids  at  her  belt. 
A  masculine  figure  was  beside  her,  but  his  back  was 
turned,  and  Jerry  could  only  be  sure  that  it  was  not 
one  of  the  love-birds.  He  hazarded  the  guess  that 
if  he  was  the  source  of  the  orchids  he  was  not  a 
brotherc  Then  he  pushed  on  to  have  his  hand- 
bags examined  at  the  gate,  and  secured  a  taxi.  At 
the  Grand  Central  he  found  he  had  ten  minutes  be- 
fore his  train  started  and  he  decided  to  telegraph 
his  father. 

"It  will  be  surprise  enough  as  it  is,"  he  thought. 
"There 's  no  use  overdoing  it.  It  might  bring  on 
apoplexy." 


CHAPTER  III 

/COLONEL  ADDISON  SUMNER  had  a  theory 
V>4  that  divided  mankind  into  what  he  called  the 
centrifugal  and  centripetal  types.  The  tempera- 
ment of  the  former  expanded  outward,  craved  so- 
ciety, travel,  and  superficial  experience  of  wide 
areas.  His  favorite  example  of  budding  centrifu- 
galism  was  the  child  that  is  odious  at  home,  but  an 
angel  of  grace  with  strangers.  The  centripetal 
character,  on  the  other  hand,  turned  inward,  made 
but  few  friends,  was  content  in  the  environment  in 
which  it  developed,  and  desired  what  are  some- 
times called  "the  real  things"  of  life. 

He  himself  was  typically  centripetal.  His  am- 
bitions and  activities  centered  in  the  little  New 
England  city  in  which  he  had  been  born,  his  hopes 
and  affections  in  the  idea  of  home.  Thus  consti- 
tuted, fate  in  some  ways  had  been  singularly  gen- 
erous to  him.  He  lived  in  the  house  in  which  he 
had  been  born — a  house  which  his  great  grand- 
father had  built,  a  house  mellow  with  Sumner  tra- 
dition. The  old  furniture  had  been  bought  new 
when  Adam,  Chippendale,  and  Sheraton  were  at 

40 


THE  BOOMERANG  41 

work.  A  Sumner  had  planted  the  great  elms  and 
laid  out  the  lawns.  In  the  garden  was  box  that 
dated  from  before  the  Revolution. 

Fate,  however,  had  left  Addison  Sumner  a  wid- 
ower when  his  second  child,  the  daughter,  was 
born,  and  this  blow  at  his  home  had  been  a  stag- 
gering one.  A  man  of  less  character  and  direc- 
tion might  have  succumbed  under  it  and  drifted 
into  dilettante  habits  and  European  wanderings. 
But  with  Addison  Sumner  it  stimulated  new  efforts 
to  save  what  was  precious  to  him.  His  hope  for 
the  future  lay  now  in  his  children.  The  happiness 
of  his  old  age  depended  on  the  relation  that  he 
should  establish  with  them.  Whether  they  would 
go  forth  and  leave  him  old  and  alone  in  his  empty 
house,  or  arrange  their  lives  about  his,  he  believed 
depended  entirely  upon  himself. 

To  make  the  house  gay  and  attractive,  to  make 
himself  their  friend  and  companion,  was  relatively 
easy  for  him.  He  enjoyed  it  and  did  it  well.  But 
in  considering  their  future,  specially  that  of  his 
boy,  he  realized  that  he  must  take  chances.  If 
Gerald  was  to  be  to  him  what  he  hoped,  it  must  be 
because  the  boy  wanted  it.  No  sense  of  compul- 
sion must  enter  in.  If  the  boy  was  to  make  his 
life  in  the  little  New  England  city  he  must  do  it 
with  full  knowledge  of  the  outer  world.  He  must 


42  THE  BOOMERANG 

do  it  because  his  sense  of  values  made  it  the  de- 
sirable thing  to  do.  So  with  a  courage  no  one 
suspected  because  no  one  knew  what  the  sacrifice 
cost,  he  sent  Gerald  away,  first  to  school  and  then 
to  college. 

The  boy's  talents  at  foot-ball  and  rowing  were 
immediately  apparent.  Beyond  that  he  seemed 
possessed  of  a  quick,  inquiring  mind,  with  a  bent 
for  science  rather  than  for  academic  studies.  By 
the  time  he  was  graduated  from  Harvard  he  had  de- 
cided upon  medicine  for  a  profession,  but  whether 
from  boyish  impulse  or  from  some  deep-seated 
trend  of  mind,  the  father  could  not  judge.  Per- 
sonally he  would  have  preferred  his  son  to  mani- 
fest a  polite  interest  in  politics  and  a  disposition 
to  manage  the  family  estate,  but  he  faced  the  situa- 
tion without  flinching.  There  was  only  one  thing 
to  do.  He  must  give  the  boy  every  advantage  of 
education  and  training.  Accordingly  after  Ger- 
ald took  his  degree  at  the  medical  school  he  sent 
him  abroad  to  complete  his  studies.  Somewhat 
to  his  alarm  he  began  to  realize  that  the  completion 
of  Gerald's  studies  was  like  the  completion  of 
Dido's  weaving.  Two  years  at  Edinburgh  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  request  for  a  year  in  London.  The 
year  in  London  led  to  two  more  in  Germany,  and 
the  year  in  Germany  made  Paris  inevitable. 


THE  BOOMERANG  43 

But  all  this  time  his  faith  both  in  his  policy  and 
in  his  son  never  wavered.  He  had  sowed  that 
later  he  should  reap  abundantly.  Gerald  was 
fitting  himself  to  be  a  great  man.  His  answers  to 
requests  for  more  time  were  always  in  the  same 
key  of  trustful  acquiescence.  "I  know  you  know 
what  you  're  doing,  my  son,"  he  would  write.  "If 
you  think  you  ought  to  go  to  Paris,  go  by  all  means. 
When  you  get  ready  to  come  back  we  shall  be  glad, 
but  don't  hurry.  Your  career  must  come  first." 

But  at  last  the  colonel  began  to  fear  lest  Ger- 
ald's mental  equipment  would  become  too  impos- 
ing for  Elmford.  He  wrote,  pointing  out  the  mis- 
take of  becoming  "too  theoretical,"  and  suggested 
that  Jerry  make  his  professional  start  as  a  practi- 
tioner not  later  than  the  autumn.  Meanwhile  he 
had  been  preparing  a  surprise  for  Jerry  which  he 
hoped  would  reconcile  the  cosmopolitan  young  doc- 
tor to  the  little  town. 

The  morning  that  Jerry  landed  the  colonel  spent 
at  his  desk  in  the  library  writing  checks  for  the 
monthly  bills.  A  pile  of  stamped  envelops  ad- 
dressed in  his  old-fashioned,  copper-plate  hand 
grew  under  his  labors.  Toward  noon,  as  he  was 
finishing,  an  automobile  horn  squawked  a  rhyth- 
mical series  of  toots  evidently  constituting  a  private 
signal.  The  colonel  smiled  and  glanced  at  the 


44  THE  BOOMERANG 

clock.  A  moment  later  a  girl  swept  boisterously 
into  the  room  and  embraced  him. 

Marion  Sumner  was  twenty-four,  but  appeared 
younger.  Possibly  the  will  not  to  grow  up  had 
physiological  consequences.  At  this  period  in  her 
life  the  most  important  thing  was  to  get  distance 
with  her  wooden  clubs  and  do  the  eighteen  holes 
under  ninety-five.  Modernity  was  exemplified  in 
Marion  even  as  the  passing  order  typified  her 
father. 

"Anything  in  the  morning  mail?"  she  demanded. 

The  colonel  shook  his  head. 

"It  looks  to  me  as  if  our  wandering  boy  had  got 
lost,"  she  observed.  "We  '11  have  to  go  after 
him." 

The  colonel  smiled. 

"Would  you  mind?" 

"Not  if  we  could  look  for  him  at  the  Paris  dress- 
makers'. Really,  Father,"  she  added,  "I  've  got 
to  get  some  clothes  or  I  '11  be  arrested." 

"Well,"  he  said,  "why  don't  you  go  to  New  York 
and  get  them?" 

"Too  busy  this  week,"  was  the  answer.  "I  'm 
just  getting  back  on  my  iron  shots.  I  came  in  in 
forty-nine  this  morning." 

"Whom  were  you  playing  with?" 

"Just  Budd,"  she  answered.     Her  tone  implied 


THE  BOOMERANG  45 

that  playing  golf  with  Budd  Woodbridge  was  like 
playing  with  one's  maiden  aunt. 

The  colonel  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  in- 
tended to  be  roguish. 

"You  seem  to  be  playing  somewhat  regularly 
with  Budd." 

She  looked  at  him  with  utter  hopelessness  as  at 
one  beyond  the  possibility  of  understanding,  and 
said: 

"I  suppose  you  know  the  laundry  boiler  is  leak- 
ing." 

"I  telephoned  the  plumber  this  morning,"  he  re- 
plied. 

At  this  juncture  the  door-bell  rang.  They 
looked  at  each  other  in  silence,  listening  to  the  foot- 
fall of  the  parlor  maid  on  her  way  to  the  door.  For 
the  last  three  weeks  they  had  been  listening  every 
time  the  muffled  ringing  of  the  bell  sounded  in  the 
pantry,  the  expectation  of  a  cable  in  the  minds  of 
each. 

"It 's  some  things  I  ordered  from  Skinner's," 
Marion  observed. 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  the  colonel.  He  rose,  gath- 
ered up  the  pile  of  envelops,  and  slipped  a  rubber 
band  about  them.  Then  the  parlor  maid  entered, 
bearing  the  telegram  that  announced  Jerry's  arrival 
on  the  one-five  train. 


46  THE  BOOMERANG 

At  two  o'clock  a  measure  of  calm  had  been  re- 
stored. They  were  still  sitting  around  the  lunch 
table,  the  colonel  radiant,  but  with  eyes  still  misty, 
Marion  calm  and  sisterly  in  the  manner  of  the  mod- 
ern sister,  devouring  the  tale  of  the  young  Odys- 
seus. The  reason  why  they  had  not  heard  from 
him  for  so  long  was  that  his  father's  letter  had 
lain  a  week  at  Lucerne  before  he  got  it.  The  very 
next  morning  he  had  started.  He  had  not  written 
because  he  knew  he  would  beat  the  mails.  He  was 
some  swift  traveler.  It  certainly  was  great  to  be 
home!  Bully!  Nothing  like  it!  Never  wanted 
to  set  foot  out  of  the  house  again.  There  was  no 
one  like  his  father.  Marion  had  become  a  peach. 
No  place  like  Elmford.  If  any  part  of  his  joy 
was  acted,  it  defied  detection.  He  ate  an  entire 
omelet  and  several  chops.  As  for  the  green  corn 
from  the  garden,  the  first  of  the  season,  it  was 
worth  a  voyage  around  the  world.  He  must  con- 
gratulate old  Watkins,  the  vegetable  gardener. 
He  must  embrace  Mrs.  Tuttle,  queen  of  omelet- 
makers.  He  had  already  wrung  the  hand  of  James 
Bannock,  the  butler,  till  that  venerable  support  of 
the  Sumner  household  winced.  He  must  forth- 
with inspect  the  entire  place  and  see  everybody. 
Suddenly  he  started  as  a  man  who  realizes  that  he 


THE  BOOMERANG  47 

had  almost  forgotten  what  he  came  to  inquire 
about. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  cried,  "I've  been  talking  so 
hard  I  'm  nutty.  What  on  earth  is  that  new  wing 
that  has  grown  out  of  the  side  of  the  house?  No 
one  has  written  about  it.  What  does  it  mean?" 

Marion  and  the  colonel  glanced  at  each  other 
significantly. 

"By  Jupiter!"  Jerry  shouted,  "Marion  9s  going 
to  be  married!  It 's  a  dove-cote  for  the  bride  and 
groom!" 

Marion  giggled. 

"You  're  an  idiot,"  she  said. 

"Yes,  it  is,"  he  insisted.  "But  why  did  n't  you 
write  me  about  it?  Who  is  he,  anyway?" 

"Perhaps  you  can  guess  when  you  see,"  said  the 
colonel. 

"We  ought  to  blindfold  him,"  said  Marion.  "It 
must  burst  on  him." 

"I  '11  keep  my  eyes  shut,"  he  promised. 

Arm  in  arm  they  led  him  through  the  new  door 
under  the  stairs,  down  the  passage,  then  through 
another  door,  and  the  word  was  given  to  look. 
He  opened  his  eyes  and  stared  about  him  dum- 
foundedly.  What  he  saw  was  a  great  room  lined 
with  cupboards  and  book-shelves.  A  flat-topped 


48  THE  BOOMERANG 

desk  stood  in  the  center,  with  a  revolving-chair 
drawn  up  before  it,  a  patient's  chair  on  the  other 
side.  On  the  walls  hung  an  engraving  of  the  first 
operation  with  ether  and  pictures  of  a  similar  char- 
acter. The  room  was  unquestionably  a  doctor's 
office. 

"The  best  private  medical  library  in  New  Eng- 
land," announced  Marion  with  a  wave  at  the  book- 
cases. "Everything  from  appendicitis  to  zymotics. 
All  the  latest  wrinkles  in  stethoscopes  and  tonsil- 
cutters."  She  flung  open  cupboard  after  cupboard, 
disclosing  shelves  filled  with  instruments  and  ap- 
paratus. "Model  operating-room  to  the  left,"  she 
went  on,  seizing  him  by  the  arm  and  dragging  him 
with  her.  "X-ray  machine  and  developing-room 
adjoining;  waiting-room  to  accommodate  twenty 
patients  across  the  hall.  All  magazines  and  comic 
papers  on  the  table  one  year  paid  in  advance;  at- 
tendant's office  through  that  door." 

He  followed  dumbly  while  she  played  guide  till 
they  came  upon  a  glittering  sign  with  the  legend : 

"Gerald  Sumner,  M.  D. 

rue      u  f10  to  12  A-  M- 

Office  Hours  4 

[  2  to     4  P.  M. 
"That  will  go  up  to-morrow,"  she  announced. 


THE  BOOMERANG  49 

"And  all  of  it  to  the  dust  cloths  in  the  housemaid's 
closet  father  did  himself." 

Jerry  turned  and  faced  his  parent. 

"But,  Father!"  he  gasped. 

"Not  a  word!"  said  the  colonel,  beaming. 
"You  've  deserved  it,  and  I  know  you  '11  use  it  as  it 
deserves  to  be  used."  He  paused  as  Bannock  ap- 
peared in  the  doorway. 

"Will  you  see  the  plumbers,  sir?"  said  the  but- 
ler. 

"In  a  moment,"  the  colonel  answered.  "And  if 
there  is  anything  you  find  wrong  or  lacking,  Ger- 
ald," he  went  on,  "I  want  you  to  tell  me  truth- 
fully, and  we  '11  make  it  right.  A  good  man  must 
have  good  tools."  He  then  turned  and  followed 
Bannock  to  the  back  of  the  house. 

"Isn't  it  wonderful?"  said  Marion.  "He  has 
been  at  it  for  six  months.  I  think  he  expects 
people  to  be  coming  up  from  New  York  to  consult 
you." 

"It 's  rather  taken  the  wind  out  of  me,"  said 
Jerry. 

"I  '11  leave  you  to  get  your  breath,"  she  an- 
swered. "I  've  got  some  telephoning  to  do.  Do 
you  want  to  play  golf  this  afternoon?" 

"I  can't;  my  things  won't  get  here  until  to-mor- 
row," he  said  in  a  hollow  voice. 


50  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  see,"  she  said.  She  waved  at  him  and  was 
gone. 

Jerry  stood  for  a  time  gazing  dumbly  about 
him.  Nothing  that  he  had  imagined  or  feared 
compared  with  the  facts.  He  had  read  a  poem 
once  which  spoke  of  "fetters  forged  by  love."  He 
understood  now  what  they  were.  He  saw  himself 
a  prisoner  till  old  age  came  upon  him,  silvering  his 
hair.  He  saw  death  at  last  signing  his  release. 
Finally,  his  best  despair  being  inadequate  to  the 
situation,  he  burst  out  Jaughing. 


CHAPTER  IV 

WHEN  Jerry  recovered  somewhat  from  the 
shock  of  the  offices  he  decided  that  he  must 
immediately  have  a  plain  talk  with  his  father.  As 
Marchbanks  had  advised,  he  must  blurt  out  the 
whole  horrible  truth.  It  would  be  a  fearful  blow 
to  the  colonel.  The  long-tried  patience  of  that 
good  man  would  give  way  at  last.  There  would  be 
an  explosion.  It  might  end  in  his  being  disowned, 
an  outcast.  But  it  had  to  be. 

Marion  had  gone  to  bed.  The  more  reliable 
of  the  library  clocks  indicated  a  quarter  past  ten. 
Jerry  was  sitting  in  an  easy-chair  on  one  side  of 
the  table.  The  colonel  in  an  easy-chair  on  the 
other  side  was  going  through  the  New  York  even- 
ing papers  with  his  glasses  half-way  down  his  nose. 
The  psychological  moment  had  come.  With  a 
queer,  weak  feeling  in  his  knees,  Jerry  flung  his 
cigar  at  the  fireplace  and  cleared  his  throat. 

"Father,"  he  said,  "there  is  something  I  want  to 
talk  to  you  about." 

The  colonel  laid  the  paper  on  his  knees. 

51 


52  THE  BOOMERANG 

"The  time  and  money  you  've  spent  on  these 
offices  make  me  very  uncomfortable.  I  don't  de- 
serve it.  The  fact  is  I  have  n't  worked  as  I  should 
have  done.  To  put  it  plainly,  sir,  I  've  loafed. 
Instead  of  getting  down  to  cases  and  boning,  I  've 
been  getting  smatterings  of  half  a  dozen  different 
specialties.  The  result  is  I  don't  know  anything 
thoroughly.  I  'm  about  as  incompetent  to  under- 
take a  general  practitioner's  job  as  a  piano-tuner." 
He  stopped.  The  horrible  truth  was  out.  He 
looked  straight  ahead  of  him  with  burning  face, 
waiting  for  the  crash. 

"Well,"  said  the  colonel  after  a  silence  that 
seemed  eternal,  "I  think  your  frankness  and 
modesty  are  very  creditable,  Jerry.  In  your  place 
I  think  I  should  have  loafed  a  good  deal  myself. 
I  've  had  a  hope  that  you  would  work  into  some  sort 
of  specialist's  practice  in  Elmford,  but,  of  course, 
we  've  got  to  wait  and  see  what  happens.  You  '11 
probably  have  time  to  brush  up  on  fundamentals 
before  you  're  troubled  with  patients.  That 's  one 
of  the  reasons  why  I  got  that  library.  I  think  it 
would  be  a  mistake  to  give  up  without  first  making 
a  try  at  it,"  he  went  on,  "but  if  it  does  n't  go,  if  the 
patients  don't  come  after  a  reasonable  length  of 
time,  I  sha'n't  want  you  to  keep  at  it."  He  picked 
up  his  newspaper  and  went  on  reading.  This 


THE  BOOMERANG  53 

was  the  great  crash.  It  was  almost  a  disappoint- 
ment. 

The  next  morning  the  brass  sign  went  up,  and 
Jerry  started  boning  fundamentals.  Emile  ar- 
rived during  the  forenoon  and  was  installed  as  of- 
fice attendant  with  the  theoretical  duty  of  answer- 
ing the  office  door-bell  and  ushering  in  patients  be- 
tween the  hours  of  ten  and  twelve,  and  two  and 
four. 

That  afternoon  an  east  wind  set  in  with  rain  that 
fell  steadily  for  two  days.  The  effect  of  the 
weather  was  to  deepen  Jerry's  sense  of  sin  and 
shortcoming  and  to  quicken  his  ardor  for  medical 
research.  During  this  period  his  attitude  toward 
the  question  of  patients  varied  from  hour  to  hour. 
At  times,  filled  with  the  desire  to  make  good,  he 
longed  for  pestilence  and  a  stricken  public  throng- 
ing the  waiting-room.  His  fear  was  that  no  one 
would  ever  come.  At  other  times,  overcome  with 
a  sense  of  his  unfitness,  his  fear  was  that  they 
would.  A  book  agent  rang  the  office  bell  during 
one  of  these  latter  states  of  mind  and  threw  him 
into  a  panic. 

However,  on  the  third  day  the  sun  came  out  upon 
a  refreshed  and  glittering  world,  and  the  natural 
man  in  Jerry  began  to  recover  his  normal  tone. 
With  the  office  windows  open  and  the  sun  stream- 


54  THE  BOOMERANG 

ing  in,  the  fundamentals  of  medicine  seemed 
less  important  and  more  oppressive  than  on  the 
preceding  days.  Osier's  book  on  practice  lay 
open,  but  unread.  Jerry's  hand  stretched  out  for 
a  match  to  light  his  cigarette  when  Marion  came 
in. 

"Jerry,"  she  said,  "Preston  De  Witt  has  just 
telephoned,  asking  us  to  make  up  a  foursome  this 
afternoon.  Will  you  play?" 

"I  don't  mind,"  he  assented,  "if  it 's  after  office 
hours.  What  has  Preston  turned  into?  I  have  n't 
seen  him  since  he  was  a  kid." 

"I  don't  think  I  'm  crazy  about  him,"  observed 
Marion,  "but  he  's  very  clever.  Mr.  Grant  has 
taken  him  into  their  law  firm,  which  means  a  good 
deal,  and  he  certainly  makes  the  big  hit  with  the 
ladies." 

"The  village  cut-up,  eh?" 

"Something  like  that.     He  plays  good  golf." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Jerry,  "we  '11  play  together 
and  trim  him.  Who  is  the  other  girl?" 

"Some  one  I  want  you  to  meet,"  she  answered. 
"Grace  Tyler." 

Of  course  the  obvious  thing  was  for  Jerry  to 
exclaim  and  tell  about  the  voyage.  But  Jerry  was 
not  given  to  the  obvious.  Moreover,  he  had  an 
instinct  for  jokes.  He  scented  one  ahead. 


THE  BOOMERANG  55 

"Tyler,  I  don't  remember  any  Elmford  Tylers," 
he  said  thoughtfully. 

"They  only  came  here  about  a  year  ago,"  Marion 
answered.  "They  're  very  nice  people.  Grace 
has  been  a  great  succcess.  She  's  very  pretty  and 
amusing;  also  she  '11  have  money." 

"Why  would  n't  she  do  for  me?" 

"I  should  think  the  question  was  whether  you  'd 
do  for  her,"  retorted  Marion.  "Anyway,  Preston 
is  on  the  job." 

"How  little  you  know  about  these  things!"  said 
Jerry.  "A  man  who  is  willing  to  take  the  trouble 
can  marry  any  woman  he  likes.  But  don't  think 
I  'm  going  to  take  the  trouble,"  he  added.  "Lib- 
erty is  the  thing  till  a  man  is  fifty.  After  that, 
some  nice,  adaptable  little  wife  and  home  and  fire- 
side." 

"You  're  disgusting,"  said  Marion. 

"But,"  he  continued,  "if  this  fellow  De  Witt  is 
unworthy  of  Miss  Tyler,  there  is  no  reason  why  we 
should  n't  help  her  to  see  her  danger." 

"I  hope,"  said  Marion,  devoutly,  "that  when  you 
get  it  really  bad,  I  '11  be  there  to  enjoy  it.  I  never 
saw  such  conceit.  I  wish  Grace  would  take  the 
trouble  to  show  you  a  little  attention." 

"It  would  be  very  nice  if  she  would,"  he  said 
teasingly. 


56  THE  BOOMERANG 

"Well,  she  won't,"  Marion  answered.  "She  is 
too  much  occupied  to  bother  with  you." 

Jerry  smiled  innocently. 

"Marion,"  he  said,  "I  '11  bet  you  a  box  of  golf 
balls  that  I  '11  make  such  a  hit  in  five  minutes  that 
she  '11  propose  playing  with  me  instead  of  Pres- 
ton." 

"Are  you  dippy?"  she  exclaimed. 

"Are  you  taking  the  bet?" 

"Of  course  I  am,"  she  answered.  She  gave  him 
a  look  of  sisterly  contempt  and  started  to  go. 

"One  minute,"  he  called.  "You  and  Grace 
have  n't  got  anything  planted  on  me?" 

"I  haven't  seen  her  for  a  month,"  Marion  an- 
swered. "She  took  her  mother  abroad,  and 
they  Ve  been  in  New  York  since  they  landed.  She 
only  got  back  to  Elmford  last  night." 

When  she  had  gone,  Jerry  began  to  compose  a 
note  on  his  best  office  stationery: 

DEAR  Miss  TYLER: 

I  am  informed  that  you  were  really  telling  the  truth 
about  living  in  Elmford,  also  that  I  'm  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  playing  golf  with  you  this  afternoon.  Both 
were  nice  things  to  hear.  Marion  does  n't  know  we  were 
shipmates,  and  has  been  telling  me  what  a  haughty,  far- 
away queen  you  are.  Suppose  we  keep  the  fact  that  we 
were  shipmates  to  ourselves  for  a  while.  I  'd  like  to  put 
one  over  on  little  sister.  If  you  would  be  willing  to  take 


THE  BOOMERANG  57 

me  on  as  a  partner  this  afternoon,  it  would  be  very  nice. 
I  think  we  could  trim  them  and  add  a  little  to  the  gaiety 
of  nations  and  the  Sumner  family. 

Yours  sincerely, 

GERALD  SUMNER. 

When  the  noon  whistles  blew,  Jerry  slipped  down 
town  to  the  leading  florist  and  despatched  his  note 
with  two  dozen  American  Beauties. 

Till  half  past  three  that  afternoon  he  toiled  man- 
fully with  Osier.  Then  he  closed  the  book  with  a 
bang,  went  to  the  closet,  and  returned  with  a  bag  of 
golf  clubs.  He  dumped  out  a  dozen  golf  balls  and 
began  to  put  across  the  rug.  As  he  got  his  eye  and 
hand  together,  his  spirits  rose.  Despite  his  thirty- 
two  years,  Jerry  was  very  much  a  boy.  Why 
should  he  worry?  He  had  told  his  father  the 
truth;  he  was  doing  the  best  he  could.  If  no  pa- 
tients came,  it  was  not  his  fault.  And  why  should 
they  come?  He  had  heard  of  young  doctors  wait- 
ing years  for  a  case,  and  there  were  enough  estab- 
lished physicians  in  Elmford  to  fight  a  plague. 
He  made  three  excellent  puts  in  succession  and 
smiled.  He  was  good  at  golf.  There  was  no 
denying  it.  That  day  he  felt  like  playing.  Very 
likely  he  would  get  around  under  eighty.  The 
thought  of  Grace  Tyler,  with  her  wonderful  color, 
her  delightful  little  nose,  her  charm,  and  youth. 


58  THE  BOOMERANG 

put  him  on  his  mettle.  He  putted  on  till  ten  min- 
utes of  four.  Then  he  gathered  up  the  balls  and 
was  going  to  his  room  to  change  into  flannels  when 
Emile  appeared. 

"Monsieur,"  the  man  said  excitedly,  "outside 
in  the  waiting-room  there  is  what  you  call  one  pa- 
tient." 

Jerry's  jaw  dropped. 

"Gott  in  Himmel!"  he  muttered.  What  had 
led  this  miserable,  unsuspecting  creature  to  invade 
his  office? 

"Look  here,  Emile,"  he  said  desperately,  "I  have 
got  to  go  at  four.  Tell  him  there  is  a  very  good 
doctor  around  the  corner  in  Chestnut  Street,  Dr. 
Kales." 

"But  it  is  a  lady,"  said  Emile.  "She  wants  to 
see  you.  She  looks  very  ill." 

"A  lady?"  he  repeated.  That  was  worse.  He 
had  a  mental  picture  of  a  bent  and  withered  crone 
tottering  in  to  enumerate  her  symptoms.  "An  old 
lady,  I  suppose?"  he  suggested. 

"Not  so  old,"  said  Emile,  hopefully. 

Jerry  looked  at  the  clock. 

"Emile,"  he  said,  "show  her  in  and  then  tele- 
phone Miss  Marion  at  the  country  club  that  I  '11  be 
a  few  minutes  late."  He  hurried  to  the  desk, 
coughed  formally,  composed  his  features  into  his 


THE  BOOMERANG  59 

idea  of  a  professional  expression,  and  began  to 
write  busily  on  the  scribble  pad.  The  door 
opened.  There  was  a  rustle  of  a  dress.  He 
looked  up.  A  girl,  slim  and  young,  was  standing 
timidly  before  him.  The  details  of  her  appear- 
ance escaped  him.  All  he  saw  was  a  pair  of  violet 
eyes  fixed  on  him  with  a  look  of  wistful  appeal. 


PART  II 


CHAPTER  V 

ONFRONTED  with  the  undeniable  fact  of  a 
\J(  flesh-and-blood  patient,  Jerry  bowed  cere- 
moniously and  in  a  voice  like  that  of  old  Farwell, 
Elmford's  fashionable  undertaker,  begged  her  to 
be  seated. 

The  girl  coughed  nervously  and  sank  into  the 
chair  and  faced  the  desk.  She  was  perhaps  twenty, 
dressed  with  an  expensive  and  somewhat  severe 
simplicity  in  a  style  hardly  suggestive  of  Elmford. 
For  the  rest  she  was  blonde,  with  a  mass  of  fair 
hair  that  seemed  to  be  struggling  to  escape  from 
under  her  hat;  but  the  spell  exerted  by  her  mild, 
appealing  eyes  dominated  the  impression  that  she 
made  upon  Jerry.  He  noted  the  little  cough  as  a 
possible  symptom  and,  opening  a  drawer,  took  out 
an  index  card  and  dipped  his  pen  in  the  ink. 

"Your  name,  please?"  he  asked,  with  a  business- 
like bruskness  not  unmixed  with  weariness,  as  if 
the  routine  repetition  of  the  question  had  worn 
upon  him. 

"Virginia  Xelva,"  was  the  answer.     She  noted 

his  look  of  perplexity,  and  spelled  the  name,  a  trace 

63 


64  THE  BOOMERANG 

of  some  foreign  accent  showing  in  her  intonation. 
He  entered  the  name  and  went  on  to  the  next  head- 
ing. 

"Address?" 

"I  have  n't  any,"  she  said  with  a  little  embarrass- 
ment. "Just  now  I  'm  at  a  boarding-house.  I 
don't  know  the  number;  it 's  down — "  She  looked 
about  her  as  if  expecting  to  find  it  in  a  corner  of 
the  room.  "It 's  three  streets  in  that  direction,  then 
to  the  right." 

"Willow  Street?"  he  suggested. 

"That 's  it,"  she  said  and  smiled  gratefully. 

He  wrote,  "Willow  Street,  number  unknown." 

"Married?"  was  the  next  inquiry. 

"No;  not  married." 

"Children — of  course  not,"  he  went  on.  "Na- 
tionality?" 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  then  answered: 

"American." 

He  glanced  up  at  her  with  an  involuntary  ques- 
tioning in  his  look,  but  she  seemed  unaware  of  it, 
and  he  continued. 

"Now  let 's  see.     Parents  living?" 

"No,"  she  said  softly. 

"Cause  of  father's  death,  cause  of  mother's 
death.  Can  you  tell  me?"  He  asked  this  in  a 
softer,  more  paternal  tone  than  he  had  used  before. 


THE  BOOMERANG  65 

"My  mother  died  of  a  fever,"  she  answered. 
"My  father  was  killed  in  an  accident." 

"I  see,"  he  said  gently  and  went  on  writing. 
Her  age  she  gave  as  twenty-one.  Her  color  he 
entered  as  white.  "Only  one  thing  more.  Occu- 
pation?" 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"As  yet  I  have  none." 

He  drew  a  dash  with  his  pen. 

"And  now,"  he  said  with  a  renewal  of  the  pro- 
fessional manner,  "suppose  you  tell  me  what  seems 
to  he  the  trouble." 

"The  trouble?"     Perplexed,  she  looked  at  him. 

"Why,  yes,  your  symptoms.  Why  do  you  need 
a  doctor?" 

Suddenly  her  eyes  flashed  comprehendingly,  and 
she  smiled. 

"I  'm  afraid  there  is  a  misunderstanding,"  she 
said.  "I  am  not  a  patient." 

"Not  a  patient?"  he  repeated.  If  she  was  not  a 
patient,  who,  in  heaven,  was  she  and  what?  If 
she  was  not  a  patient,  by  what  right  had  she  put 
him  through  the  ordeal  that  he  had  been  undergo- 
ing? He  hung  between  righteous  indignation  and 
a  desire  to  laugh. 

"Why,  no;  I  am  very  well,"  she  said  apologeti- 
cally. "I  came  here  from  the  agency." 


66  THE  BOOMERANG 

He  looked  mystified. 

"Mrs.  Thompson  said  you  had  just  opened  an 
office  and  might  want  an  office  nurse." 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Thompson's  employment  agency!" 

"Yes ;  I  suppose  you  don't  need  one.  I  'm  sorry 
to  have  troubled  you."  She  stopped  with  a  quaver 
in  her  voice  and  made  as  if  to  rise. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  he  said  impulsively.  "Are 
you  really  looking  for  a  position  for  yourself?" 
What  was  in  his  mind  was:  "Are  you  really  in 
need  of  a  job?  Can  it  be  that  a  girl  dressed  as  you 
are  is  hard  up  and  has  to  work?" 

She  must  have  divined  his  thought,  for  she 
colored  faintly  and  answered: 

"I  should  be  very  glad  to  get  something  to  do." 

"But  the  only  thing  I  could  offer  you  isn't  a 
trained  nurse's  work,"  he  went  on. 

"I  'm  not  yet  a  trained  nurse,"  she  answered. 
"I  thought  if  I  could  get  a  position  answering  the 
bell  and  the  telephone  I  could  study  and  learn." 

"But  why  do  you  want  to  be  a  nurse?" 

"Why?"  she  repeated.  "Why,  because  I  love  it. 
Next  to  being  a  doctor,  it  seems  to  me  the  finest 
thing  one  can  do."  Her  eyes  lighted  with  an  en- 
thusiasm  that  repressed  his  inclination  to  laugh. 

"But  what  makes  you  think  it 's  a  fine  thing  to 
be  a  doctor?"  he  demanded. 


THE  BOOMERANG  67 

"What  other  profession  gives  one  such  a  chance 
to  help  people?"  she  answered.  "But  you  're 
probably  making  fun  of  me,"  she  added.  "Good 
doctors  must  know  how  wonderful  their  work  is." 

It  was  on  his  tongue  to  say,  "You  see,  I  'm  not  a 
good  doctor,"  but  something  held  it  back. 

"The  trouble  with  a  position  in  my  office,"  he 
went  on,  "is  that  you  might  n't  get  a  chance  to  learn 
much  about  nursing.  What  you  ought  to  do  is  to 
go  to  New  York  and  take  the  regular  course  at  one 
of  the  hospitals." 

"I  would,"  she  answered,  "only  I  have  to  sup- 
port myself,  and  so  I  have  to  take  some  kind  of 
position  like  this."  The  wistful,  haunting  eyes  met 
his. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "if  you  would  care  to  come  and 
help  us  out  till  something  better  turned  up,  I  should 
be  glad  to  have  you." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  gratitude  that  left  her 
speechless. 

"The  obligation  is  all  on  my  side,"  he  said 
quickly.  He  had  a  horrible  feeling  that  she  was 
going  to  weep. 

"You  are  so  good!"  she  murmured.  Then  she 
added  with  embarrassment:  "I  haven't  refer- 
ences. I  don't  know  any  one  here.  I  did  n't 
expect  to  do  this  when  I  came  to  Elmford." 


68  THE  BOOMERANG 

"That 's  all  right,"  he  said  cheerily.  "I  know 
as  much  about  you  as  you  do  about  me.  Now  I 
suppose  we  ought  to  be  businesslike  and  talk  about 
terms.  What 's  your  idea  of  salary?" 

"I  don't  suppose  I  'm  worth  anything  just  now," 
she  said  hopelessly.  "You  '11  have  to  teach  me 
everything." 

"There  is  an  advantage  in  not  having  to  unlearn 
things,"  he  suggested.  "That  ought  to  be  worth 
a  good  deal." 

"Please  let  me  leave  the  business  part  of  it  to 
you.  Anything  you  say  will  be  satisfactory,  more 
than  satisfactory." 

"Well,  then  we  '11  call  it  settled.  When  would 
you  like  to  begin?" 

"Why,  any  time  it 's  convenient." 

"Good!  Suppose  you  start  in  to-morrow  morn- 
ing." He  touched  the  bell,  and  Emile  appeared. 
"Emile,"  he  said,  "Miss  Xelva  is  going  to  relieve 
you  of  your  office  responsibilities." 

She  started  up  protestingly, 

"Oh,  no!"  she  exclaimed.  "I  could  n't  take  the 
place  away  from  any  one." 

The  Frenchman  grinned. 

"You  needn't  worry  about  him,"  said  Jerry. 
"He  's  not  leaving  us  and  he  's  greatly  relieved  to 
be  out  of  the  office.  Miss  Xelva  will  take  charge 


THE  BOOMERANG  69 

of  the  office,  beginning  to-morrow,"  he  went  on. 
"Show  her  where  to  put  her  things.  Fix  that  desk 
up  for  her  in  the  waiting-room  office  and  explain  as 
well  as  you  are  able  your  extensive  duties." 

Emile  grinned  again. 

"If  mademoiselle  is  ready,  I  will  show  her  now." 

She  turned  her  childlike,  questioning  eyes  upon 
him  as  if  to  reassure  herself  that  it  was  really  as 
Jerry  had  said. 

"You  are  very  good,"  she  murmured  gratefully. 
"I  am  quite  ready." 

"Then  I  '11  leave  you  in  his  hands.  I  have  an 
engagement  at  four,"  said  Jerry  and  retreated  into 
the  house.  As  he  changed  into  his  flannels  he  re- 
flected on  what  he  had  done.  He  had  hired  a 
young  woman  whom  he  did  not  need,  about  whom 
he  knew  nothing,  and  who,  according  to  her  own 
statements,  knew  nothing  of  her  job.  It  was  not 
a  bright  thing  to  do. 

"But  you  can't  let  a  girl  like  that  knock  around 
the  streets  looking  for  a  way  to  make  her  bread 
and  butter,"  he  defended  himself.  Just  what  he 
meant  by  "a  girl  like  that"  he  did  not  take  the 
trouble  to  discover.  It  might  have  been  that  her 
appearance  indicated  that  she  was  not  used  to  being 
thrown  upon  her  own  resources.  It  might  have 
been  something  more  psychological,  something  that 


70  THE  BOOMERANG 

'  had  to  do  with  the  impression  made  by  her  unde- 
niably extraordinary  eyes.  At  a  quarter  past  four 
he  jumped  into  the  waiting  motor-car  and  speeded 
off  for  his  golf  and  the  meeting  with  the  vision. 

Among  other  things  that  add  to  the  interest  of 
life  by  turning  out  contrary  to  design  and  expecta- 
tion are  practical  jokes.  In  the  theory  of  chances 
there  was  little  likelihood  that  Jerry's  rather  boyish 
conspiracy  to  conceal  from  Marion  his  voyage  with 
Grace  Tyler  would  work  out.  But  as  a  matter  of 
fact  it  did.  The  suggestion  embodied  in  Jerry's 
note  appealed  to  Grace.  Any  suggestion  appealed 
to  Grace  that  tended  to  mortify  the  proprietary  in- 
stincts of  man.  Preston  De  Witt  was  too  intelli- 
gent a  young  man  to  allow  his  proprietary  instincts 
to  become  manifest,  but  Grace  knew  that  they  were 
there,  and  she  knew  that  it  was  good  sense  to  run 
the  steam  roller  over  them  when  she  got  the  chance. 
Moreover,  it  was  the  kind  of  thing  that  interested 
her  and  which  she  did  well.  Therefore  the  joke 
was  on.  She  wore  one  of  Jerry's  roses.  She 
made  herself  obviously  delightful  to  him  and  in- 
sisted that  it  was  unthinkable  that  a  brother  and 
sister  should  play  together.  As  a  consequence, 
with  Jerry  as  a  partner  she  defeated  Preston  and 
Marion  four  up  and  three  to  play.  There  had  been 
few  rounds  of  golf  that  Jerry  had  enjoyed  more. 


THE  BOOMERANG  71 

As  they  were  having  tea  on  the  club  veranda, 
the  question  came  up  of  a  return  match.  Marion 
wanted  revenge. 

"How  about  to-morrow  afternoon?"  she  sug- 
gested. 

Preston  shook  his  head  regretfully.  He  was 
fearfully  busy.  He  did  n't  know  when  he  could 
get  off  again.  The  fact  was  he  had  not  enjoyed  the 
afternoon. 

"Why  not  get  Budd?"  said  Grace. 

"I  hear  he  's  sick,"  said  Preston.  "He  has  n't 
been  at  the  office  for  a  couple  of  days." 

"Sick?"  said  Marion.  "What 's  the  matter  with 
him?" 

"Don't  ask  me,"  said  Grace,  carelessly.  "I 
saw  him  for  a  few  minutes  last  night.  He  seemed 
all  right.  But  if  he  's  sick,  he  ought  to  see  Dr. 
Sumner." 

"That 's  the  way  to  talk,"  said  Marion.  "Lib- 
eral commissions  on  all  new  business." 

"Mother  will  get  rich,  then,"  said  Grace,  laugh- 
ing. "She  thinks  he  's  the  greatest  living  doctor." 

"Are  you  talking  about  Budd  Woodbridge?" 
asked  Jerry. 

Marion  nodded. 

"Great  Scott!"  said  Jerry,  "you  don't  mean  to 
say  he's  grownup!" 


72  THE  BOOMERANG 

"He  's  twenty-four." 

"Gosh!"  said  Jerry.  "The  last  time  I  saw  him 
he  was  in  knee  pants.  What  sort  of  critter  has  he 
turned  into?  He  was  a  nice  kid." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment,  then  Grace 
said: 

"I  think  he  's  quite  a  dear.  Don't  you,  Ma- 
rion?" 

"Why,  yes,  of  course,"  said  Marion,  calmly. 
"The  only  thing  I  have  against  him  is  his  dancing. 
You  see,  Jerry,  we  all  look  on  him  as  a  sort  of 
cross  between  a  brother  and  a  maiden  aunt.  He  's 
grown  fearfully  solemn." 

"He  did  n't  used  to  be,"  Jerry  observed. 
"These  girls  don't  seem  to  be  very  enthusiastic,  De 
Witt.  What  sort  of  chap  is  he?" 

Preston  tossed  away  his  cigarette  with  a  man-of  • 
the-world  gesture. 

"Why,  a  very  good  chap,  very  good  little  chap," 
he  said  patronizingly.  "Plays  a  nice  game  of 
golf." 

"We  may  be  able  to  play  to-morrow,"  said 
Jerry.  "You  telephone  Budd,  Marion,  and  if  we 
can't  get  him,  scare  up  some  one  else." 

As  Marion  and  Jerry  drove  away  from  the  club, 
Marion  confessed  her  defeat. 

"I  ordered  a  box  of  balls  put  in  your  locker," 


THE  BOOMERANG  73 

she  said.     "I  hand  it  to  you  as  lady  charmer." 

Jerry  roared  with  delight. 

"My  dear,"  he  said,  "I  can't  take  the  balls. 
You  were  up  against  a  brace  game.  I  came  back 
on  the  same  ship  with  the  lady.  We  had  it  all 
fixed." 

Open-mouthed,  Marion  gazed  at  him,  then  a 
woman's  first  thought  came  to  her. 

"Do  you  mean  you  are  dashing  in  seriously?" 

"Do  you  think  I  'd  have  a  chance?"  he  answered, 
laughing. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  think,  except  that  you  're 
certainly  a  fox." 

"Well,  I  '11  tell  you  again,  as  I  told  you  the  other 
day,  that  I  have  no  idea  of  marrying  anybody;  but 
I  also  announce  that  I  don't  think  De  Witt  will  do 
for  Grace,  not  by  a  long  shot.  There 's  a  lot  of 
good  in  that  girl,  and  if  I  've  got  Preston's  number 
correctly,  he  's  a  counterfeit." 

"Between  you  and  me  I  think  so,  too,"  said  Ma- 
rion, "but  all  the  same  I  '11  bet  you  she  marries 
him.  He's  a  good  deal  cleverer  than  you  think 
he  is." 

"I  '11  bet  she  does  n't,"  he  answered.  "I  can't 
see  Preston  in  any  light.  He  's  the  last  man  that 
could  worry  me  if  he  was  bucking  my  game  with 
a  girl." 


74  THE  BOOMERANG 

The  car  stopped  in  front  of  the  house.  As  they 
got  out  Jerry  said: 

"By  the  way,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  I  engaged  a  new 
office  attendant  this  afternoon.  You  see,  Emile 
does  n't  like  that  kind  of  work,  and  he  '11  be  a  great 
deal  more  useful  in  the  house." 

"But  there 's  nothing  for  him  to  do  except  valet 
you,"  said  Marion. 

"Oh,  yes,  there  is,"  Jerry  answered.  "We  ought 
to  have  a  second  man  in  the  dining-room." 

"But  how  did  you  happen  to  engage  a  new  at- 
tendant? Where  did  you  find  him?" 

"It 's  a  woman,"  said  Jerry.  "A  nurse.  Every 
doctor  ought  to  have  a  woman  nurse  in  the  office." 

Marion  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"I  suppose  you  know  your  own  business,"  she 
said. 


CHAPTER  VI 

AS  they  were  finishing  dinner  that  evening, 
Bannock  came  in  with  a  note  and  presented 
it  to  Jerry.  Jerry  asked  permission  to  read  it. 
Having  read  it,  he  put  it  into  his  pocket  with  an  air 
of  mystery  and  drank  his  coffee. 

"Well,"  said  Marion,  "are  n't  you  going  to  tell 
us  what  she  says?" 

"I  'm  afraid  not,"  Jerry  answered.  "It 's  of  a 
private  nature." 

Marion  regarded  him  balefully. 

"Our  boy  has  made  a  hit  with  the  ladies,"  she 
observed  to  her  father.  "He  's  a  little  above  him- 
self." 

The  colonel  laughed.  Jerry  regarded  her  with 
an  indulgent  smile,  and  when  they  left  the  dining- 
room  took  his  hat  and  went  out.  He  returned 
about  half  past  nine  and  without  comment  upon 
his  absence  began  to  set  the  chess-board  for  a  game 
with  his  father.  No  further  reference  was  made 
to  the  note. 

It  was  a  quarter  past  ten  the  next  morning  when 

Jerry  entered  his  office.     He  had  hardly  seated 

75 


76  THE  BOOMERANG 

himself  when  the  new  office  attendant  came  in. 
She  was  dressed  even  more  simply  than  the  day 
before,  but  there  was  color  in  her  cheeks,  and  her 
eyes  glowed  with  excitement. 

"There  is  a  patient  to  see  you,"  she  said.  "He 
did  n't  want  to  wait.  In  order  to  keep  him  occu- 
pied, I  took  the  liberty  of  filling  out  the  index-card. 
I  hope  I  did  right." 

"You  did,  indeed,"  said  Jerry.  He  seemed  to 
feel  no  surprise  at  the  idea  of  the  waiting  patient. 
"I  hope  Emile  explained  things  and  made  you  com- 
fortable?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  she  answered.     "He  was  very  good." 

"And  you  think  you  're  going  to  like  your 
work?" 

"I  know  I  am,"  she  answered.  Their  eyes  met, 
and  her  color  heightened  a  little.  Her  enthusiasm 
amused  him,  but  he  made  no  comment. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "you  'd  better  show  Mr.  Wood- 
bridge  in." 

As  he  said  the  name,  she  glanced  at  him. 

"Then  you  're  expecting  Mr.  Woodbridge?" 

He  nodded. 

"But  don't  let  him  know  he  was  expected,"  he 
added. 

"I  understand,"  she  said.  She  handed  him  the 
index-card  and  went  out. 


THE  BOOMERANG  77 

As  he  seated  himself  at  the  desk  he  glanced  at 
the  card  and  smiled. 

"That  girl  is  certainly  quick  at  getting  an  idea," 
he  thought. 

A  moment  later  Mr.  Budd  Woodbridge  was 
standing  before  him,  nervously  crumpling  his  hand- 
kerchief in  the  palm  of  his  hand. 

Jerry  looked  up,  registering,  as  they  say,  recog- 
nition. 

"Why,  Budd  Woodbridge!"  he  exclaimed. 
"This  is  a  pleasant  surprise!  It 's  years  and  years 
since  I  Ve  seen  you!"  He  rose,  and  held  out  his 
hand. 

"Yes,  it 's  a  long  time,"  said  Budd. 

"Is  this  a  social  occasion,"  asked  Jerry,  "or 
something  professional?" 

"Professional,  I  guess,"  said  Budd,  gloomily. 
He  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  chair.  "There 's 
nothing  the  matter  with  me,  but  mother  made  me 
promise  to  come.  You  won't  find  anything. 
They  've  all  had  a  try  at  me." 

"Well,  it  won't  do  any  harm  to  try  again,  will 
it?" 

"No,"  said  Budd,  doubtfully.  "If  it  amuses 
you,  go  ahead." 

"Have  n't  much  confidence  in  the  medical  pro- 
fession, eh?" 


78  THE  BOOMERANG 

Budd  grinned  dolefully. 

"I  don't  blame  you,"  said  Jerry.  "Now,  what 
seems  to  be  the  matter?" 

"There  's  nothing  the  matter,"  said  the  patient, 
hopelessly. 

"Eat  well?     Sleep  well?" 

Budd  eyed  him  suspiciously. 

"Not  very,"  he  said.  "Mother  has  n't  been  tell- 
ing you  a  lot  of  worry  stuff?"  he  added. 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Jerry  with  emphasis. 
"What  put  that  into  your  head?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  the  boy  answered.  "I  've 
lost  a  little  weight  and  I  've  been  kind  of  nervous, 
and  mother  thinks  I  'm  sick.  It  makes  me  tired." 

"Perhaps  you  are,  perhaps  you  aren't,"  said 
Jerry,  sagely.  "That 's  what  we  're  going  to  find 
out.  Unless  you  object,  we  '11  go  over  you." 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Budd,  resignedly. 

Jerry  produced  a  thermometer  from  the  drawer, 
washed  it  ceremoniously,  and  placed  it  under  the 
patient's  tongue. 

"You  see,  the  modern  theory  of  medicine,  which 
is  pretty  well  borne  out  by  facts,"  he  observed,  "is 
that  you  and  I  are  sort  of  continents  inhabited  by 
billions  of  assorted  germs.  A  few  of  them  we 
know,  most  of  them  we  don't,  though  we  're  learn- 
ing new  ones  every  day.  When  some  of  the  bad 


THE  BOOMERANG  79 

ones  start  something,  it  is  n't  always  easy  to  say 
just  what  is  doing,  but  a  good  many  of  them  signal 
their  activities  with  more  or  less  rise  of  tempera- 
ture. Hence  the  object  which  is  now  in  your 
mouth."  Though  he  talked  carelessly,  he  was 
watching  the  boy  with  keen  eyes. 

"But  I  tell  you  I  'm  all  right,"  mumbled  Budd. 

Jerry  nodded,  looked  at  his  watch,  and  presently 
extracted  the  instrument.  The  mercury  stood  at 
normal. 

"That  is  interesting,"  said  Jerry. 

Budd  glanced  at  him  nervously. 

"Anything  doing?" 

Jerry  made  no  reply,  but  went  to  an  instrument 
case,  and  returned  with  a  sounding-hammer. 

"Coat  off  and  waistcoat,  please,"  he  commanded. 

Budd  removed  his  garments,  and  Jerry  began 
to  rap  upon  his  chest,  listening  closely  to  the  dull, 
thud-like  sounds  that  resulted.  He  finished  this 
operation  and  regarded  his  patient  sternly. 

"Cough  much?"  he  inquired. 

"Only  when  I  have  a  cold.  I  have  n't  had  one 
since  spring." 

"I  thought  not.  Now  we  '11  go  a  step  further." 
He  took  the  hammer  back  to  the  case,  and  returned 
with  a  stethoscope.  He  put  his  patient  in  the  op- 
erating-chair and  went  to  work.  He  finished, 


80  THE  BOOMERANG 

made  notations  upon  the  card,  and  took  the  blood 
pressure. 

"You  say  your  weight  is  off?"  he  demanded  sud- 
denly. 

Budd  nodded. 

"How  much?" 

"About  ten  pounds." 
•"Since  when?" 

"The  last  month  or  so,  since  I  haven't  been 
sleeping  very  well." 

"Never  been  very  fat,  eh?" 

"No." 

"Let  me  see  your  tongue." 

A  red  tongue  was  exhibited. 

"Um,"  said  Jerry,  professionally.  "Ever  take 
out  any  life  insurance?" 

A  faint  flush  came  into  the  boy's  pale  face.  He 
nodded. 

"You  passed  all  right?" 

"Yes." 

"When  were  you  examined?" 

"About  three  months  ago." 

"Um,"  said  Jerry  again.  He  rose,  paced  the 
length  of  the  room  and  back,  and  then,  telling  the 
patient  that  he  would  be  back  in  a  few  moments, 
disappeared  into  the  operating-room. 

Now,  Jerry's  reason  for  disappearing  into  the 


THE  BOOMERANG  81 

operating-room  was  that  he  wanted  to  think.  Sim- 
ulation of  thought  in  the  presence  of  the  patient 
got  him  no  nearer  finding  out  what  was  the  matter 
with  Budd  Woodbridge.  Thermometer,  stetho- 
scope, sounding-hammer,  and  tongue  all  indicated 
that  nothing  was  the  matter.  The  verdict  of  four 
other  doctors  who  had  used  these  and  other  means 
of  diagnosis  was  to  the  same  effect.  Yet  Jerry  be- 
lieved that  the  diagnosing  instruments  and  the 
other  doctors  were  wrong.  It  was  merely  an  intui- 
tion, a  "hunch";  yet  there  were  certain  facts  to 
back  it.  In  the  first  place,  Budd  had  lost  ten 
pounds  in  the  past  three  months.  In  the  second, 
Mrs.  Woodbridge,  who  had  sent  for  him  the  even- 
ing before  on  the  advice  of  Mrs.  Tyler,  was  thor- 
oughly alarmed.  She  said  that  in  the  past  three 
months  Budd  had  changed  from  a  cheerful,  nor- 
mal, fun-loving  boy  to  something  utterly  different. 
He  slept  little,  picked  at  his  food,  shunned  com- 
pany, and  wore  his  nerves  on  the  surface.  She 
was  a  sensible,  intelligent  woman,  and  her  conclu- 
sions could  not  be  dismissed  as  the  fancies  of  an 
excited  mother.  Admitting  the  change  in  his  condi- 
tion, something  must  have  caused  it.  The  question 
was  to  find  out  that  something.  Jerry's  first 
thought  was  that  the  boy  had  been  gambling  in  the 
stock-market  and  had  perhaps  put  up  securities 


82  THE  BOOMERANG 

that  he  had  no  right  to  take.  But  it  appeared  that 
this  had  been  the  theory  of  Dr.  Kale,  the  family 
physician,  and  investigation  proved  it  baseless. 
Mrs.  Woodbridge  was  more  than  well  off,  and  Budd 
had  the  income  of  a  generous  trust  fund  on  his  own 
account.  Nor  could  a  clue  be  found  either  in  bad 
habits  or  an  entangling  alliance.  Budd  was  a 
model  young  man. 

As  he  stood  in  the  operating-room  gazing  blankly 
at  the  wall  Jerry  forgot  that  he  was  a  practising 
physician,  which  had  always  seemed  to  him  a  role 
involving  humbug.  He  was  merely  himself,  Jerry 
Sumner,  very  much  interested  in  working  out  a  per- 
plexing human  problem.  He  continued  to  gaze  at 
the  wall,  but  the  wall  was  in  no  wise  helpful.  Sud- 
denly he  squared  his  shoulders,  crossed  to  the  door 
that  led  into  the  attendant's  room,  and  passed 
through.  The  new  attendant  looked  up  from  the 
nurse's  manual  that  she  was  poring  over  and  rose 
respectfully. 

"Miss  Xelva,"  he  said,  "if  you  were  a  doctor, 
what  would  you  say  was  the  matter  with  that  young 
man?"  He  nodded  toward  the  private  office. 

Miss  Xelva's  mild,  wondering  eyes  fixed  on  him 
as  if  to  make  sure  that  she  was  not  being  made 
game  of. 


THE  BOOMERANG  83 

"But  I  'm  not  a  doctor,"  she  answered.  "My 
opinion  would  be  worth  nothing." 

"That 's  not  the  question,"  said  Jerry.  "If  you 
have  an  opinion,  I  'd  like  to  hear  it." 

"Well,  it  seems  very  clear  to  me,"  she  answered, 
"that  the  young  man  is  suffering  from  some  worry, 
very  likely  an  unhappy  affaire  de  cceur." 

Jerry  regarded  her  with  amazement. 

"You  mean  the  boy  's  in  love?"  he  demanded. 

"That  is  what  I  should  say.  You  can  see  he  is 
unhappy." 

"But  you  don't  really  think  being  in  love  can 
make  a  healthy  man  lose  ten  pounds  beside  his 
sleep  and  appetite?" 

"It  might,"  she  answered.  "It  would  depend 
on  his  attitude  of  mind,  I  should  think." 

He  looked  at  her  keenly  and  laughed. 

"That's  beyond  me,"  he  said.  "It's  not  my 
idea  of  love." 

"Of  course,  I  am  very  likely  wrong,"  she  an- 
swered demurely.  "It  was  only  my  opinion. 
You  asked  for  it." 

"Well,  of  course,  I  'm  very  much  obliged  to  you 
for  it."  He  turned  on  his  heel  and  went  back  to 
his  patient.  There  were  only  two  courses  open: 
either  to  confess  that  he  did  n't  know  what  the  mat- 


84  THE  BOOMERANG 

ter  was,  or  to  stall  along  on  the  chance  of  thinking 
it  out.  He  decided  on  the  latter.  To  gain  time  he 
said,  "Budd,  I  want  to  take  your  pulse  before  I  go 
any  further." 

Without  speaking,  Budd  extended  his  hand. 
Jerry  took  it  and  opened  his  watch.  The  pulse 
appeared  to  be  a  perfectly  good  pulse.  Jerry 
counted  its  beats  through  a  quarter  of  a  minute, 
then  went  on  to  the  half.  Ordinarily  he  would 
have  stopped  here.  He  was  satisfied  with  its  be- 
ing normal,  but  there  was  nothing  else  to  do  so  he 
kept  on.  Just  as  he  passed  the  three-quarter  mark, 
the  door  opened  softly,  and  Miss  Xelva  appeared. 

"Miss  Grace  Tyler  would  like  to  speak  with  you 
on  the  telephone,"  she  said. 

Jerry  nodded,  but  made  no  move.  At  the  men- 
tion of  Miss  Tyler's  name  Budd's  pulse  had  shot 
up.  There  was  no  doubt  about  it.  In  the  suc- 
ceeding five  seconds  the  beats  almost  doubled. 
Then  they  began  uncertainly  to  fall  off. 

"Tell  Miss  Grace  Tyler,"  Jerry  said,  "that  I  '11 
call  up  in  five  minutes." 

Up  shot  Budd's  pulse  again.  Jerry  watched  him 
out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye.  The  boy's  mouth  was 
set;  drops  of  moisture  were  on  his  forehead  though 
the  day  was  cool.  Jerry  did  some  quick  thinking. 


THE  BOOMERANG  85 

"Oh,  Miss  Xelva,"  he  called,  "has  Mr.  Preston 
De  Witt  rung  me  up  this  morning?" 

Up  shot  the  pulse  again. 

"No,"  said  Miss  Xelva,  returning. 

"That 's  all,"  said  Jerry.  At  the  end  of  the  next 
quarter-minute  he  released  Budd's  hand.  If  he 
wanted  time  to  think  before,  he  wanted  it  even  more 
now.  It  was  hard  to  believe,  but  Miss  Xelva  was 
undoubtedly  right.  Budd  was  in  love  with  Grace 
Tyler,  and  the  name  of  Preston  De  Witt  affected 
him  as  the  red  rag  is  supposed  to  affect  the  bull; 
But  how  to  treat  such  a  situation  medically  was  a 
question.  Moreover,  he  was  uncertain  whether  he 
wanted  to  treat  it.  He  knew  he  was  not  in  love 
with  Grace  Tyler  himself,  but  he  was  not  sure  that 
he  did  n't  want  to  be,  or  that  he  might  n't  end  up  by 
being.  She  was  an  uncommonly  attractive  girl. 
As  he  put  his  watch  back  into  his  pocket  he  thought 
of  a  plan  to  postpone  action. 

"Budd,"  he  said,  "I  'm  all  through  with  you  to- 
day except  for  one  thing.  I  want  to  take  a  blood 
test.  Come  into  the  operating-room." 

Five  minutes  later  Budd  departed  with  an  ap- 
pointment for  the  next  morning  when  he  was  to  be 
informed  of  the  result. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THERE  was  to  be  a  dance  that  night  at  the  Lud- 
lows',  and  Gertrude  Ludlow  had  sent  word  to 
Marion  to  bring  Jerry,  dead  or  alive.  Jerry,  how- 
ever, had  stood  out  against  it.  He  was  not  a  danc- 
ing man.  After  Budd  had  left  the  office,  he  called 
up  Grace  Tyler,  and  the  first  thing  she  asked  him 
was  whether  or  not  he  was  coming  to  the  dance. 

"I  guess  it 's  nothing  doing,"  he  answered.  "I 
can't  manage  these  new  steps.  I  'd  feel  out  of  it." 

"But  I  '11  teach  you,"  she  suggested.  "You  '11 
learn  in  five  minutes." 

"Yes,  I  know  about  that,"  he  retorted.  "I  rd 
have  a  great  chance.  You  'd  be  so  busy  you  'd  for- 
get you  ever  knew  me.  We  '11  talk  it  over  this 
afternoon  when  we  play  that  return  match.  By  the 
way,  why  not  get  Woodbridge  to  play  with  Marion? 
I  don't  believe  he  's  too  sick  for  a  little  golf." 

And  then  a  blow  fell.  Grace  could  n't  play  that 
afternoon.  She  had  to  take  her  mother  motoring. 
That  was  why  she  had  telephoned. 

After  Jerry  had  rung  off  he  decided  that  he  had 
made  a  mistake  in  turning  down  the  dance.  As 

86 


THE  BOOMERANG  87 

soon  as  Budd  had  gone  he  had  planned  to  get  him 
for  golf  and  watch  him  with  Grace.  He  felt  that 
seeing  them  together  would  help  to  clarify  the  sit- 
uation. If  he  could  believe  that  Budd  had  a 
chance  to  beat  out  De  Witt,  he  would  declare  him- 
self out  of  the  running  and  help  the  boy  play  his 
hand.  If  not,  he  would  wash  his  hands  of  Budd 
and  give  Preston  a  rub  on  his  own  account.  With 
the  golf  match  off,  there  was  no  chance  of  making 
the  observations  he  wanted  before  Budd  came  back 
to  him  as  a  patient.  At  lunch  he  announced  to 
Marion  that  he  had  changed  his  mind  about  the 
dance.  He  would  go. 

"I  suppose  Grace  has  been  using  the  telephone," 
said  Marion  with  a  sisterly  smile. 

"Right  as  usual,"  said  Jerry. 

At  half  past  eleven  that  evening  Jerry  had  been 
introduced  to  eleven  girls,  had  danced  three  waltzes 
in  the  English  manner  without  reversing,  and  for 
ninety  minutes  had  been  watching  the  door  through 
which  the  guests  entered  Mrs.  Ludlow's  ball-room. 
No  Grace  Tyler  had  appeared. 

For  an  equal  length  of  time  Mr.  Budd  Wood- 
bridge  had  been  going  through  much  the  same  pro- 
gram. Toward  the  end  of  the  period  Jerry  had 
taken  to  watching  Budd  instead  of  the  door.  It 
amounted  to  the  same  thing  and  also  gave  him  a 


88  THE  BOOMERANG 

chance  to  study  his  patient,  as  it  were,  under  fire. 
A  little  before  midnight  he  saw  Budd  disappear 
and,  acting  on  impulse,  decided  to  follow  him.  He 
entered  the  dressing-room  as  Budd  was  leaving 
with  his  coat  and  hat,  and  reached  the  street  as 
he  passed  under  a  street  lamp  half  a  block  away. 
To  go  directly  home,  Budd  should  have  turned  to 
the  right  at  the  corner.  But  Budd  turned  to  the 
left.  Jerry  also  turned  to  the  left,  wondering 
what  was  in  the  boy's  mind.  He  did  not  have  long 
to  wait  before  finding  out.  At  Putnam  Street 
Budd  turned  again  and  presently  stopped  before  a 
house  that  was  still  lighted.  In  front  of  the  house, 
which  Jerry  recognized  as  Mrs.  Tyler's,  stood  a 
motor-car.  When  Budd  stopped,  Jerry  had 
stopped  also.  When  Budd  went  on,  he,  too,  went 
on  and,  coming  to  the  motor-car,  recognized  it  as 
a  runabout  belonging  to  Preston  De  Witt.  What 
had  happened  was  obvious.  Grace  had  told  Budd 
she  was  coming  to  the  dance  and  had  chucked  him 
for  Preston. 

Whatever  doubts  Jerry  may  have  had  before  of 
the  accuracy  of  the  diagnosis  based  upon  the  pulse 
episode  of  the  morning,  they  were  now  settled. 
The  boy  was  in  love.  Miss  Xelva  had  been  right. 
Just  how  much  encouragement  Budd  had  received, 
Jerry,  of  course,  could  not  say,  but  he  surmised  that 


THE  BOOMERANG  89 

there  must  have  been  considerable,  and  that  being 
the  case,  there  was  no  doubt  that  he  had  just  been 
handed  a  pretty  rough  deal.  His  own  hour  and  a 
half  made  him  appreciate  the  roughness.  His 
sympathy  for  the  boy  increased  as  he  thought 
about  it,  and  before  he  got  home  he  decided  to  take 
the  case.  He  had  some  theories  about  the  manage- 
ment of  ladies  of  Grace's  type.  Moreover,  there 
was  too  much  good  in  her  to  let  her  throw  herself 
away  on  a  selfish,  cold-blooded  proposition  like  De 
Witt.  He  believed  he  might  be  helpful  to  both 
sides.  He  let  himself  in  with  his  latch-key,  and 
went  up  to  bed  wondering  how  he  would  open  up 
the  subject  with  Budd.  It  was  the  kind  of  thing 
that  a  woman  older  than  Budd  might  have  done 
gracefully  enough,  but  he  was  not  an  older  woman. 
Just  as  he  was  dropping  off  to  sleep,  an  idea  came  to 
him,  and  he  chuckled  audibly. 

Promptly  at  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning 
Jerry  was  in  the  office.  At  five  minutes  past 
ten  Budd  was  ushered  in.  He  looked  pale  and 
haggard  as  if  he  had  passed  an  extremely  unhappy 
night. 

"I  came  in,"  he  said,  "because  I  promised  that 
I  would,  but  if  you  don't  mind,  I  think  I  '11  go.  I 
have  got  a  little  headache  and  I  think  the  air  will 
do  me  good." 


90  THE  BOOMERANG 

"Not  interested  in  the  result  of  the  blood  test?" 
said  Jerry,  casually. 

Budd  laughed  mirthlessly. 

"There  's  nothing  the  matter  with  me.  You  as 
much  as  said  so  yourself  yesterday." 

"Nothing  the  matter?  You  've  lost  ten  pounds; 
you  Ve  got  insomnia ;  your  appetite  's  gone ;  you  're 
so  nervous  you  can't  sit  still,  and  yet  you  say  noth- 
ing is  the  matter  with  you?" 

"Well,  there  's  nothing  a  doctor  can  do." 

Jerry  looked  at  him  keenly,  and  Budd  dropped 
his  eyes. 

"You  're  sure  of  it,  eh?" 

"Sure." 

"Would  you  like  to  make  a  bet  on  it?" 

"You  'd  lose  your  money,  Doctor." 

"I  'm  willing." 

"Then  you  really  think  there  's  a  medical  treat- 
ment that  would  help  me?" 

"I  don't  think.     I  know.9' 

"You  're  wrong,"  said  Budd.  "I  know  what 's 
the  matter  with  me.  It  is  n't  anything  that  drugs 
can  help." 

"I  know  what 's  the  matter  with  you,  too,"  said 
Jerry,  "and  it  is  something  that  medicine  can  help." 

"You  're  wasting  your  time,"  said  Budd.  "I 
think  I  '11  be  going."  He  started  for  the  door. 


THE  BOOMERANG  91 

"Just  as  you  say,"  said  Jerry,  "but  remember, 
you  promised  your  mother  to  put  yourself  under 
my  care  if  I  said  I  could  help  you.  Yesterday  I 
was  n't  sure.  To-day,  since  I  've  made  the  blood 
test,  it 's  different.  I  can  help  you.  You  're  not 
going  to  back  out?" 

Budd  looked  at  him  suspiciously. 

"What  sort  of  a  treatment  will  it  mean?"  he  de- 
manded. "How  long  will  it  take?" 

"That  depends  on  several  things,"  Jerry  an- 
swered, "but  chiefly  on  how  conscientiously  you 
carry  out  my  instructions." 

Budd  sat  down,  with  his  hat  on  his  lap. 

"Now,  my  son,"  continued  Jerry,  "in  the  first 
place  I  've  got  to  ask  you  certain  personal  ques- 
tions. You  know  a  doctor  has  to  do  that  kind  of 
thing." 

Budd  nodded. 

"Before  I  begin  I  want  you  to  promise  me 
that  you  '11  answer  me  truthfully  and  not  get 
mad." 

"That 's  all  right." 

"That  means  you  will?" 

"Certainly." 

Gerald  pushed  the  box  of  cigarettes  toward  him 
and  helped  himself. 

"Now  the  first  question,"  he  began,  "is  a  simple 


92  THE  BOOMERANG 

one.  I  want  to  know  how  long  you  have  been  in 
love  with  Grace  Tyler." 

The  boy  stiffened  in  his  chair  and  gazed  at  Jerry, 
his  face  crimson. 

"Who  told  you  that?"  he  stammered. 

"No  one  has  told  me  anything,  my  dear  boy," 
said  Jerry,  calmly,  "except  yourself." 

"But  I  've  never  told  any  one." 

"You  seem  to  forget  that  I  've  been  examining 
you  inside  and  out,  and  that  I  've  taken  a  culture  of 
your  blood.  After  all,  modern  medicine  is  able  to 
do  something,  you  know." 

Budd  looked  at  him  with  something  like  awe, 
and  Jerry  had  to  cough  to  preserve  his  composure. 

"Now  be  good  enough  to  answer  my  second  ques- 
tion. How  long  has  this  thing  been  going  on?" 

Budd  flushed  again. 

"I  should  say  ever  since  I  met  her." 

"First  sight?" 

Budd  nodded. 

"Well,  how  long  ago  did  you  meet  her?" 

"Something  over  a  year  ago;  the  twenty -fourth 
of  last  August,  to  be  exact." 

Jerry  made  a  note  on  the  card. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "there  's  another  question  which 
I  want  you  to  answer  with  equal  directness.  Does 
Grace  Tyler  love  you?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  93 

"Is  that  necessary?"  Budd  stammered. 

"I  understand.  But  I  've  got  to  know.  You 
are  here  as  a  patient,  not  as  a  gentleman." 

"Well,"  said  Budd,  with  an  effort,  "I  think  she 
did." 

"And  now  she  does  n't?" 

"It  seems  that  way.  I  think  I  bore  her,"  he 
added  miserably. 

"And  how  long  have  you  seemed  to  bore  her?" 
demanded  Jerry,  relentlessly. 

The  boy  made  no  reply,  but  turned  his  head,  and 
Jerry  saw  that  his  eyes  were  brimming  with  tears. 
He  rose  and  walked  round  the  desk  and  laid  a 
hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"I  know  how  it  is,"  he  said  imaginatively. 
"It 's  hell!  I  've  been  through  it  myself  often,  but, 
old  boy,  you  must  n't  let  it  get  the  best  of  you." 

Budd  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"Doctor,  it  has  got  the  best  of  me!" 

"Nonsense!"  said  Jerry,  sharply.  "This  is  no 
way  to  go  on!" 

"Do  you  think  I  don't  know  that?"  cried  Budd. 
"I  know  well  enough  that  I  ought  to  be  a  man 
about  it,  that  if  she  does  n't  care  for  me  any  longer, 
I  ought  to  keep  away  from  her,  but,  Doctor,  I  just 
cant.  Can't  you  understand  it?" 

"Of  course  I  can  understand  it,"  said  Jerry, 


94  THE  BOOMERANG 

falsely.  "But  understanding  it  won't  help  you 
any  more  than  giving  in  to  it  against  your  better 
judgment.  We  've  got  to  get  down  to  facts  in  this 
world." 

Budd  nodded  miserably. 

"But  tell  me,"  Jerry  continued,  "when  did  you 
find  out  that  she  had  stopped  caring  for  you?" 

"I  don't  know  exactly,  but  I  've  felt  it  coming  on 
for  quite  a  while,  ever  since — " 

"Well,"  said  Jerry,  "ever  since  what?" 

"Since  there  's  been  another  man." 

"So  there  's  another  man,  eh?     Who?" 

"Preston  De  Witt." 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  said  Jerry. 

"Well,  ever  since  he  began  coming  around,  I  've 
felt  a  change.  I  did  n't  think  much  of  it  at  first, 
but  then  they  were  together  more  and  more,  and 
after  a  while  she  seemed  to  prefer  him.  I  made 
up  my  mind  over  and  over  again  that  the  only  de- 
cent thing  for  me  to  do  was  to  get  out  of  her  way. 
But  I  could  n't  help  hanging  around  just  the  same. 
Why,  I  keep  telling  myself  I  won't  go  near  her 
when  I  am  on  my  way  to  her  house.  And  all  the 
time  I  know  perfectly  well  what  an  idiot  I  'm  mak- 
ing of  myself.  And  when  I  'm  with  her,  my  at- 
tempts to  conceal  this  damned  jealousy  and  appear 


THE  BOOMERANG  95 

light-hearted  and  jolly — well,  you  can  imagine 
how  successful  they  are!"  He  paused,  and  his 
manner  changed.  A  quiet  intensity  came  into  his 
eyes  as  he  continued.  "And  now  little  by  little  in 
spite  of  myself  I  've  begun  to  hate  him!  No  mat- 
ter how  I  fight  against  it,  I  can't  keep  him  out  of 
my  mind.  At  times  I  imagine  I  see  him  some- 
where alone,  standing  and  waiting, — and  I  try  to 
hold  back  and  keep  from  springing  on  him  and 
then, — she  's  there,  coming  down  a  path,  and  be- 
fore I  know  it  I  have  him  by  the  throat,  strangling 
the  life  out  of  him,  strangling  him,  do  you  under- 
stand?" 

"You  've  got  this  pretty  bad,"  said  Jerry. 

Budd  sank  back  in  his  chair  as  if  exhausted  by 
his  vehemence  and  abashed  that  he  should  have 
unbosomed  himself. 

"I  have  got  it  pretty  bad,"  he  answered,  with  a 
sickly  smile.  "I  told  you  I  was  a  damned  fool." 

"You  're  up  against  a  tough  game,"  said  Jerry, 
sympathetically,  "awfully  tough.  However,  if  you 
will  fall  in  love,  you  've  got  to  be  prepared  for 
trouble.  But  there 's  no  need  to  call  yourself 
names.  Under  the  circumstances  I  think  you  've 
behaved  remarkably  well." 

Budd  snorted  contemptuously. 


96  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  know  how  I  Ve  behaved — like  a  sniveling 
school-boy.  Why,  if  I  were  any  good,  do  you 
think  I  'd  have  told  you  all  this?" 

"You  did  n't  tell  me,"  Jerry  answered.  "You 
only  answered  the  question  I  put  to  you.  I  'd 
found  out  myself." 

"Look  here,"  Budd  demanded,  "you  don't  mean 
to  try  and  put  it  over  that  by  looking  at  my  tongue 
or  examining  a  drop  of  blood  you  could  tell  I  was 
in  love  with  Grace  Tyler?  I  've  been  going  around 
making  an  exhibition  of  myself,  letting  every  one 
know.  That 's  what  I  've  been  doing.  What  I 
need  is  a  nurse." 

Jerry  looked  at  him  smilingly.  An  idea  just 
struck  him. 

"It 's  quite  likely  that  we  will  get  you  one,"  he 
said. 

"And  a  rattle  and  a  baby-carriage  and  a  bottle," 
Budd  continued  bitterly.  "I  'm  not  worth  your 
trouble,  Doctor." 

"Steady,  boy,"  said  Jerry,  kindly.  "There  's  no 
use  running  yourself  down.  No  one  suspects  this 
thing  but  myself,  and  no  one  knows  about  it  unless 
you  or  Grace  Tyler  have  told  him.  You  say  you 
have  n't,  and  I  'm  pretty  sure  she  has  n't.  You 
don't  understand  what  the  examination  of  a  drop 


THE  BOOMERANG  97 

of  blood  can  tell  about  a  man.  I  'm  not  going  into 
details  that  you  would  n't  understand,  but  you  have 
my  word  for  it  that  no  one  has  told  me  a  thing  about 
you  and  Grace  except  my  instruments  and  your- 
self." 

"Well,"  said  Budd,  "there  's  a  certain  amount  of 
cold  comfort  in  that,  but  it  does  n't  help  very  much. 
I  don't  suppose  there  's  any  use  in  my  staying  on 
and  talking  you  to  death.  Now  that  you  really 
know  what  my  trouble  is,  of  course  that  cure  bet  is 
off." 

"That  cure  bet  is  very  much  on,"  Jerry  an- 
swered. "I  can  cure  you  if  you  want  to  be  cured 
and  will  do  as  I  say." 

Budd  smiled  incredulously. 

"I  wish  I  could  believe  that,"  he  said,  "but  I 
don't." 

"I  repeat,"  said  Jerry,  "I  can  cure  you  if  you  are 
willing  to  place  yourself  in  my  hands  for  just  one 
month." 

"What  would  you  want  me  to  do?" 

"Whatever  I  tell  you." 

Budd  was  silent,  thinking. 

"Would  it  mean  that  it  was  all  over  with — " 
He  hesitated. 

"It  might,"  said  Jerry. 


98  THE  BOOMERANG 

The  boy  looked  at  him  piteously. 

"It's  pretty  tough,"  he  muttered.  "Could  I 
have  a  little  time  to  think  it  over?" 

"You  can  have  till  to-morrow  at  half  past  two," 
said  Jerry.  "At  that  time  I  shall  have  the  serum 
ready,  and  if  you  want  to  sign  on,  I  '11  give  you  the 
first  treatment." 

"The  serum?"  Budd  repeated. 

"That 's  what  I  said,"  Jerry  answered  gravely. 
"It 's  a  new  thing  that  they  've  worked  out  in  Paris 
for  cases  like  yours." 

"Well,"  said  the  boy,  "I  '11  come  in  to-morrow  at 
half  past  two  and  let  you  know  what  I  've  decided." 

"Good!"  said  Jerry.  He  gave  Budd  a  hearty 
shake  of  the  hand,  and  the  boy  departed.  A  few 
minutes  later  Jerry  touched  the  bell,  and  Miss 
Xelva  came  in. 

"You  still  want  to  be  a  nurse?"  he  demanded. 

She  looked  at  him  in  mild  wonder. 

"Why,  yes,"  she  answered. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "unless  I  miss  my  guess  I  '11 
have  a  case  for  you  to-morrow." 

"But  am  I  competent  to  go  on  a  case?"  she  asked. 

He  smiled. 

"I  guess  you  're  as  competent  a  nurse  as  I  am  a 
doctor.  Would  you  have  any  objections  to  taking 
care  of  Mr.  Woodbridge?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  99 

"Mr.  Woodbridge,"  she  repeated.  "Is  he  ill 
enough  for  a  nurse?" 

"I  think  so." 

"Then  you  found  out  what  was  the  matter,'"  she 
asked  timidly. 

He  nodded. 

She  gazed  at  him  admiringly. 

"And  you  think  you  can  cure  him?" 

"I  'm  going  to  try,  but  it 's  an  awful  disease." 

"Is  it  right  for  me  to  ask  what  it  is?" 

"Perfectly.  You  ought  to  know.  In  plain  Eng- 
lish the  disease  is  called  jealousy." 

"Jealousy?"  she  repeated. 

"Plain,  old-fashioned  jealousy.  You  see,  you 
guessed  it  yesterday." 

"But  how  can  a  nurse  be  of  any  use  trying  to 
cure  a  young  man  of  jealousy?" 

Jerry  gave  her  a  quizzical  look. 

"May  I  ask  a  personal  question?  Have  you 
ever  been  in  love?" 

She  gazed  at  him  with  her  frank,  innocent  eyes 
and  shook  her  head. 

"Then,  of  course,  you  don't  know  anything  about 
it,"  he  said.  "I  '11  explain." 

"But  jealousy  can't  be  treated  by  a  doctor,"  she 
insisted. 

"By  the  family  doctor,  no.     You  are  quite  right. 


100  THE  BOOMERANG 

But  we  specialists  have  some  new  ideas  on  the  sub- 
ject. You  see  modern,  up-to-date  medicine  treats 
anything  from  measles  to  parricide  with  serums." 

"But  is  there  a  serum  for  jealousy?"  she  asked 
incredulously. 

"There  will  be  by  two-thirty  to-morrow,"  he  an- 
swered. "But  don't  think  I  'm  not  taking  this  case 
seriously,"  he  added.  "This  boy  is  really  in  a 
dangerous  condition.  He  's  right  on  the  brink  of 
a  nervous  collapse,  and  all  because  he  's  got  a  girl 
on  the  brain.  Your  job  and  mine  is  to  get  her  off. 
And  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  give  him  something 
else  to  worry  about  even  if  we  have  to  give  him  a 
new  disease.  And  that 's  where  the  nurse  comes 
in.  Woodbridge  must  be  made  to  believe  that 
we  're  keeping  a  strict  record  of  his  condition. 
And  all  the  time  the  nurse  must  be  doing  her  best 
to  amuse  him  and  keep  his  mind  constantly  occu- 
pied. And  believe  me,  that 's  just  as  worthy  and 
difficult  a  job  as  nursing  a  patient  through  ty- 
phoid." 

"You  're  good  to  give  me  the  chance,"  she  said. 
"I  'd  love  to  try  it." 

"Well,  we  '11  try  to  work  it  out  together.  This 
afternoon  I  '11  show  you  the  things  you  '11  have  to 


use." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BUDD'S  state  of  mind  as  he  walked  home  from 
Jerry's  office,  to  put  it  mildly,  was  confused. 
When  he  had  gone  to  see  Jerry,  torn  and  anguished 
with  the  experience  of  the  night  before,  he  would 
have  submitted  cheerfully  to  anything  that  prom- 
ised to  remove  Grace  from  his  memory,  even 
cerebral  surgery.  Now  that  Jerry  assured  him  of 
a  cure,  he  could  not  bring  himself  really  to  want 
it.  He  had  the  feeling  that  if  he  only  gave  her 
enough  devotion,  she  would  care  for  him  in  the  end. 
Without  her,  life  was  utterly  empty.  Even  since 
De  Witt  had  come  on  the  scene  they  had  had  de- 
lightful evenings  together  at  which  Budd  would 
be  translated  to  the  seventh  heaven  and  go  away  on 
fire  with  happiness.  Then  the  next  day  something 
would  happen:  he  would  do  or  say  something  which 
Grace  would  resent  and  for  a  week  he  would  nurse 
a  bleeding  heart.  As  he  reached  the  corner  and 
turned  toward  his  mother's  house,  it  flashed  upon 
him  that  in  some  way  it  was  all  his  own  fault.  He 
was  too  easily  hurt;  he  demanded  too  much;  he 
lacked  the  requisite  patience.  A  girl  as  beautiful 

and  perfect  as  Grace  was  a  law  unto  herself.     Who 

101 


102  THE  BOOMERANG 

was  he  to  complain  or  criticize?  He  resolved  to 
begin  over  again  and  be  perfectly  strong,  perfectly 
patient,  perfectly  cheerful  and  devoted  no  matter 
what  happened.  He  made  a  solemn  vow  to  that 
effect. 

As  he  turned  down  Connecticut  Street  an  auto- 
mobile horn  squawked  vehemently,  and  looking  up, 
he  saw  Grace  driving  her  mother's  car  and  smiling 
radiantly  at  him.  She  drew  up  at  the  curb  and 
waited  for  him.  Budd's  heart  beat  joyfully. 

"Hello!"  he  called  and  dashed  across  the  street. 

"Want  a  lift?" 

"I  was  just  going  home,"  he  answered. 

"Well,  I  wanted  to  see  you  about  something," 
she  said.  "You  've  been  very  bad."  She  looked 
at  him  with  a  sort  of  coy  motherliness.  "You  've 
been  sick  and  have  n't  let  me  know  about  it." 

"It  was  nothing,"  he  answered  deprecatingly, 
"just  a  little  cold." 

"But  it  kept  you  from  the  office." 

"Who  told  you  that?"  he  demanded. 

"Why,  I  think  it  was  Preston,"  she  answered. 
"We  wanted  you  to  make  up  a  foursome." 

At  the  name  of  Preston  it  was  as  if  the  sunlight 
had  suddenly  gone  out.  Budd  stiffened.  He  re- 
membered his  newly  made  resolutions,  however, 
and  forced  a  sickly  smile. 


THE  BOOMERANG  103 

"I  was  all  right,"  he  said.  "It  was  just  that 
mother  thought  I  ought  to  stay  home." 

"Well,  I  'm  glad  of  that,"  she  said  sympatheti- 
cally. "I  was  getting  worried.  I  had  n't  seen  you 
for  days  and  I  wanted  to  thank  you  for  the  bridge 
scores.  Where  on  earth  did  you  get  them?  They 
were  just  what  I  wanted." 

The  sun  began  to  come  out  again. 

"I  sent  to  New  York  for  them,"  he  answered. 
"I  'm  awfully  glad  they  were  right." 

"Tell  me  about  the  party,"  she  said  smilingly. 
"I  hear  you  left  early." 

The  ice  began  to  form  again  somewhere  in 
Budd's  interior. 

"Yes,"  he  said  shortly. 

"Was  n't  it  fun?" 

"I  don't  know,"  he  answered.  "I  thought  you 
were  going  to  be  there." 

"I  did  expect  to.  Your  flowers  were  too  lovely, 
Budd." 

"But  why  did  n't  you  come?" 

"I  don't  know.  Somehow  I  did  n't  feel  quite  up 
to  it.  You  know  how  one  chucks  at  the  last  min- 


ute." 


"Yes,  I  can  understand,"  he  said  bitterly.  The 
words  had  slipped  out,  and  his  resolutions  were 
forgotten. 


104  THE  BOOMERANG 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  she  demanded. 

"I  passed  by  your  house  on  my  way  home,"  he 
said  significantly. 

"But  that  was  n't  on  your  way  home." 

"I  went  around  that  way  to  ask  if  you  were  ill." 

"Did  you  come  to  see  me  last  night?"  she  de- 
manded. 

"I  did  n't  stop  because  I  saw  you  were  engaged. 
His  runabout  was  outside." 

"Well,  what  of  that?" 

"Nothing;  only  I  knew  then  why  you  did  n't  come 
to  the  dance." 

"But  I  'd  given  up  the  dance  long  before  Preston 
called.  I  had  n't  the  slightest  idea  he  was  com- 
ing." 

"But  he  must  have  known  you  'd  given  it  up." 

The  lines  of  Grace's  mouth  tightened. 

"Now  you  're  beginning  again,"  she  said 
sharply,  "and,  as  I  Ve  told  you,  I  won't  stand  it." 

The  boy  looked  at  her  miserably. 

"I  did  n't  mean  to  say  anything,"  he  faltered. 

"Well,  you  did,"  she  answered  hotly.  "You 
may  not  mean  it,  but  you  always  do.  And  I  tell 
you  once  more,  I  won't  have  it.  I  Ve  a  perfect 
right  to  do  what  I  please  and  see  whom  I  please. 
You  said  you  understood  that." 


THE  BOOMERANG  105 

"I  do  understand  it.  But  lately  you  seem  to  be 
with  Preston  all  the  time." 

"That's  not  true,"  Grace  exploded,  "and  you 
know  it.  And  if  it  were,  it 's  entirely  my  own 
affair.  And  I  won't  have  you  always  reproaching 
me  and  making  scenes." 

She  pressed  her  foot  on  the  starter;  the  car  shot 
forward,  and  Budd  was  left  dumbly  standing  on 
the  sidewalk,  with  a  lump  in  his  throat  and  his 
whole  being  numb  with  heartache. 

The  next  day  at  half-past  two  he  came  into 
Jerry's  office  looking  like  the  ghost  of  misery. 

"I  've  decided,"  he  said.     "I  '11  do  as  you  say." 

Jerry  suppressed  a  smile. 

"That 's  the  right  spirit,"  he  said  cheerily.  "In 
a  month  you  won't  know  yourself.  You  '11  be  feel- 
ing like  a  two-year  old." 

Budd  looked  at  him  dismally,  but  said  nothing. 

"Well,"  Jerry  went  on,  "we  've  got  the  serum 
ready."  His  hand  went  out  to  a  small  bottle  of 
colorless  fluid,  that  stood  on  the  desk.  "That 's 
the  stuff." 

"But  I  can't  see,"  said  Budd,  "how  medicine  can 
cure  jealousy." 

"That 's  natural,"  said  Jerry,  "and  you  can't  see 
why  because  you  don't  know  what 's  brought  on  the 


106  THE  BOOMERANG 

jealousy.  Now  you  think  it's  Preston  De  Witt, 
but  it  is  n't.  Preston  De  Witt  never  would  bother 
you  if  it  were  n't  that  your  nervous  system  had  been 
attacked." 

"By  what?" 

"Bugs,"  said  Jerry,  gravely.  "Germs,  mi- 
crobes, millions  of  them.  They  get  you  down,  and 
that 's  what  made  you  nervous,  and  your  neuras- 
thenia, as  we  call  it  professionally,  made  you  jeal- 
ous. If  you  were  in  a  normal  condition,  as  I  am, 
for  example,  you  would  n't  know  what  jealousy 
was.  You  would  never  give  Preston  a  second 
thought.  You  'd  snap  your  fingers  at  him." 

Wonder  tinged  with  envy  showed  in  Budd's  gaze, 
and  it  was  hard  for  Jerry  to  keep  a  straight  face. 

"I  wish  I  were  like  you,"  he  said. 

"You  will  be  after  we  get  through  with  you," 
said  Jerry.  He  touched  the  bell,  and  Miss  Xelva 
answered  it.  "We  're  all  ready,"  he  said. 

Miss  Xelva  disappeared,  and  Jerry  took  a  medi- 
cine-dropper, filled  it  from  the  vial  of  colorless 
liquid,  and  dropped  three  drops  in  a  glass  of  dis- 
tilled water. 

The  boy  watched  him  eagerly  and  suddenly 
burst  into  hysterical  laughter  ending  with  a  kind 
of  sob. 


THE  BOOMERANG  107 

"There  go  the  bugs  at  work  on  your  old  nerves," 
said  Jerry. 

"It 's  the  idea  of  my  being  full  of  germs,"  said 
Budd,  controlling  himself.  "It 's  funny." 

"Everybody 's  full  of  'em,"  continued  Jerry, 
putting  the  cork  back  into  the  vial.  "Most  of  them, 
you  see,  are  harmless,  but  you  've  got  some  bad 
ones.  But  we  '11  knock  'em  out.  Now,  the  treat- 
ment may  be  a  little  hard  for  you,  especially  at 
first.  Do  you  think  you  can  stand  it?" 

"I  '11  stand  anything  if  it  cures  me.  The  harder 
the  better." 

"That 's  the  way  to  go  at  it,"  Jerry  said  encour- 
agingly. "Do  you  drink?" 

"Not  much." 

"Smoke?" 

"Yes;  quite  a  little." 

"You  must  cut  'em  both  out.  You  must  n't  even 
look  at  a  high-ball.  Why,  one  teaspoonful  might 
spoil  the  effect  of  all  the  microbes  in  that  glass, 
something  like  three  hundred  millions." 

"You  're  going  to  put  microbes  in  me?"  Budd 
asked. 

"Billions  of  them  to  fight  your  nerve  bugs. 
That 's  the  principle  of  modern  medicine." 

Budd  gazed  at  him  in  awe. 


108  THE  BOOMERANG 

"All  right,"  he  said  meekly. 

"Now,  the  next  most  important  thing  after  cutting 
out  drink  and  tobacco  is  exercise.  Exercise  and 
the  course  I  'm  going  to  lay  out  for  you  gives  our 
beneficient  organisms  the  proper  chance  to  do  their 
work.  You  must  be  up  every  morning  at  six,  rain 
or  shine,  and  take  half  an  hour  at  a  brisk  dog-trot. 
Then  a  cold  shower  and  breakfast!  In  the  fore- 
noon two  hours'  work  in  the  gymnasium  and  no 
loafing  about  it.  After  lunch  a  long  walk,  six  or 
seven  miles,  and  in  the  evening  if  you  feel  up  to 
it,  a  short  go  at  the  punching-bag,  another  bath,  and 
bed.  In  other  words,  all  the  exercise  you  can  stand 
and" — he  paused  impressively — "for  one  month 
absolutely  no  social  engagements.  Do  you  know 
what  I  mean  by  that?" 

"Keep  away  from — her?" 

"Exactly,  and  from  all  your  friends." 

The  door  opened,  and  Miss  Xelva  came  in  with 
a  surgeon's  tray  on  which  were  a  lighted  alcohol 
lamp,  a  hypodermic  syringe,  a  bottle  of  alcohol, 
absorbent  cotton,  forceps,  and  other  instruments. 

"And  now  we  '11  go  ahead  with  the  serum," 
Jerry  continued.  "Take  your  coat  off,  roll  up  your 
shirt-sleeve,  and  lie  down  in  the  operating-chair." 

While  Budd  was  obeying  instructions,  Miss 
Xelva  deftly  disinfected  the  hypodermic  needle  in 


THE  BOOMERANG  ,    109 

the  flame  and  filled  the  syringe  from  the  solution  in 
the  tumbler.  Then  with  a  piece  of  cotton  soaked 
in  alcohol  she  rubbed  the  spot  on  Budd's  arm 
where  the  injection  was  to  be  made.  As  she  fin- 
ished she  glanced  up  furtively,  and  Jerry  nodded 
approval. 

"I  'm  going  to  have  Miss  Xelva  do  this,"  Jerry 
explained,  "because  she  will  give  you  your  daily 
treatments.  All  ready,  Miss  Xelva.  It  won't  hurt 
you,"  he  added.  "Just  a  quick  jab,  twitch  it  out, 
and  it 's  all  over." 

The  girl  set  her  mouth,  took  the  syringe  in  one 
hand  and  Budd's  arm  in  the  other. 

"I  do  hope  it  won't  hurt,"  she  said  sympa- 
thetically. 

"I  don't  mind,"  said  Budd. 

"You  won't  hurt  him  if  you  jab  it  quickly,"  said 
Jerry. 

Budd  closed  his  eyes  as  if  he  had  been  facing 
a  firing-squad;  the  girl,  pale,  but  determined,  sud- 
denly pressed  the  needle  home,  and  the  deed  was 
done. 

"Was  it  very  bad?"  she  asked  excitedly. 

Budd  opened  his  eyes. 

"I  did  n't  feel  it." 

"It 's  nice  of  you  to  say  so,"  she  murmured. 

"Gome    along,"    said   Jerry.     "Press    it   down 


110  THE  BOOMERANG 

slowly — give  it  time.  That 's  the  way !  Splendid ! 
Now  out  quickly!  That 's  very  neatly  done.  Miss 
Xelva." 

She  wiped  the  spot  with  the  cotton  and  proceeded 
to  rub  it  with  the  palm  of  her  hand. 

"Feeling  a  little  dizzy?"  Jerry  asked. 

"No,"  said  Budd,  doubtfully.     "I  don't  think 


so." 


"You  will.  Getting  several  million  germs 
pumped  into  you  is  quite  a  shock,  but  it  will  pass 
off  presently.  I  would  n't  try  to  stand  up  just  yet. 
You  should  always  lie  down  for  five  minutes  after 
each  treatment.  Miss  Xelva  will  help  you  into  the 
operating-room,  and  you  lie  down  on  the  couch." 

"But  I  feel  all  right,"  said  Budd. 

"Better  submit  to  assistance,"  Jerry  suggested. 
"Think  of  those  bugs  and  don't  take  any  chances." 

Five  minutes  later  Jerry  went  into  the  operating- 
room. 

"Feeling  all  right?"  he  asked.  "Dizziness 
passed  off?" 

The  boy  sat  up. 

"I  really  don't  think  I  felt  any,"  he  answered. 
"If  I  did,  I  did  n't  know  it." 

"That 's  splendid,"  said  Jerry.  "You  're  going 
to  react  favorably.  I  can  see  the  treatment  will 
succeed.  Now,  you  know  yesterday  we  were 


THE  BOOMERANG  111 

speaking  of  a  nurse  for  you.  Well,  I  've  arranged 
for  one." 

Budd's  face  fell. 

"I  have  n't  got  to  have  a  nurse,  have  I?" 

"It 's  absolutely  essential,"  said  Jerry,  impres- 
sively. "I  would  n't  take  the  responsibility  of  the 
case  without  one.  But  no  one  need  know  about  it. 
In  fact  it 's  better  that  no  one  should  suspect  that 
you  are  ill." 

"I  should  prefer  it  that  way,"  said  Budd. 

"Well,  that's  the  way  it  will  be,"  said  Jerry. 
"If  you  don't  go  to  the  office  or  see  people,  that 's 
your  own  affair.  In  a  few  days  no  one  will  think 
anything  about  it.  Miss  Xelva  will  go  on  the  case. 
She  's  a  very  capable  woman.  I  '11  arrange  about 
it  with  your  mother.  You  won't  need  her  during 
the  day,  but  it  will  be  best  to  have  her  live  at  your 
house  and  see  that  you  get  up  in  the  morning  and 
go  through  your  work.  Also  she  '11  keep  your 
chart.  During  office  hours  she  '11  be  here  as  usual 
and  will  give  you  your  serum  treatment." 

"Just  as  you  say,  Doctor,"  said  Budd. 

"And  now,"  said  Jerry,  "as  a  parting  word  re- 
member the  bugs  that  have  been  making  all  this 
trouble,  and  help  the  good  little  microbes  that  are 
working  for  you  to  win.  In  a  month  you  '11  have 
forgotten  what  it  was  to  be  jealous." 


112  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  don't  suppose,"  said  Budd,  timidly,  "that  you 
have  ever  been  jealous  yourself." 

Jerry  laughed. 

"I  'm  afraid  that 's  an  experience  I  shall  never 
have,  Budd.  I  just  naturally  happen  to  have  good 
nerves.  But  you  will,  too,  and  you  '11  laugh  to 
think  that  a  fellow  like  Preston  De  Witt  could  ever 
have  given  you  a  bad  night." 

Budd  gazed  at  him  admiringly  and  departed. 

When  Jerry  was  alone  he  rang  the  bell  for  the 
office  attendant. 

"You  were  bully,"  he  said,  "went  through  it  with- 
out a  hitch." 

"I  can  never  thank  you  enough  for  taking  so 
much  trouble  to  teach  me,"  she  answered.  "It 
must  be  wonderful  to  know  as  much  as  you  do." 

Jerry  laughed. 

"If  we  had  a  show-down,"  he  said,  "you  'd  find 
out  that  I  know  just  as  much  about  doctoring  as  you 
do  about  nursing." 

She  looked  at  him  a  little  shocked,  as  if  he  had 
uttered  a  mild  blasphemy. 

"It 's  the  truth,"  he  went  on.  "This  is  my  first 
case,  just  as  it 's  yours,  and  I  'm  depending  on  you 
to  help  me  put  it  through.  Together  I  think  we  can 
do  it,  but  during  the  next  month  most  of  the  work 
will  fall  on  your  shoulders.  To-night  you  '11  go 


THE  BOOMERANG  113 

to  the  Woodbridges'.  I  '11  see  Mrs.  Woodbridge 
this  afternoon.  She  's  a  very  nice  woman  and  will, 
I  know,  make  you  comfortable." 

A  shadow  crossed  the  girl's  face. 

"Then  I  'm  not  to  come  here  to-morrow?" 

"Why,  of  course  you  're  to  come,"  he  answered. 
"Did  n't  you  understand  that?  Your  duties  won't 
interfere  with  our  office  hours." 

"I  'm  glad  of  that,"  she  said.  She  gave  a  sigh 
of  relief  and  dropped  her  eyes. 

"Now  I  've  explained  to  you  about  keeping  his 
chart,"  he  went  on.  "You  really  won't  have  to  do 
much  except  put  the  thermometer  in  his  mouth  and 
write  ninety-eight  and  two  fifths.  Is  there  anything 
else  you  want  to  know?" 

"There  's  one  thing,"  she  said  anxiously.  "I  'm 
awfully  afraid  I  '11  make  some  mistake  in  giving 
him  his  serum.  Suppose  I  give  him  too  much?" 

"Don't  let  that  worry  you,"  said  Jerry.  "The 
serum  is  distilled  water  with  three  drops  of  dis- 
tilled water  added  to  it." 

She  looked  at  him  in  amazement  and  then  burst 
out  laughing. 

"You  see  there  are  tricks  in  every  trade  but 
ours,"  said  Jerry.  Mentally,  he  was  making  note 
of  the  way  she  laughed.  In  a  long  experience  he 
had  observed  that  few  women  are  attractive 


114  THE  BOOMERANG 

when  they  laugh.     This  girl  was  one  of  the  few. 

"I  feel  very  much  relieved,"  she  said.  "I  was 
afraid  I  might  kill  him." 

"No  danger  of  that,  you  see,  but  in  any  case  I  'd 
take  a  chance  on  you.  The  way  you  take  hold  of 
this  thing  is  amazing.  Have  n't  you  ever  done  any- 
thing of  this  kind  before?" 

"A  very  little,"  she  answered,  "and  only  as  an 
amateur,  but  it  interests  me." 

She  went  back  to  her  little  room  where  her 
desk  was,  and  a  moment  later  he  heard  her  speak- 
ing to  Emile  in  French.  He  went  to  the  door  and 
listened.  French  evidently  was  as  much  her  na- 
tive tongue  as  English. 

"I  wonder  what  brought  that  girl  to  Elmford," 
he  said  to  himself.  "There  's  something  odd  about 
it.  A  girl  with  Paquin  clothes  and  a  Cartier  watch 
isn't  usually  found  looking  for  a  chance  to  take 
care  of  a  doctor's  office  in  Elmford,  Connecticut." 


PART  III 


CHAPTER  IX 

HPHE  establishing  of  Miss  Virginia  Xelva  at  the 
J_  Woodbridges'  in  the  capacity  of  trained  nurse 
was  not  so  simple  a  matter  as  Jerry  had  anticipated. 
As  soon  as  Budd  left  the  office,  Jerry  telephoned 
Mrs.  Woodbridge  and  arranged  to  see  her  privately 
after  lunch.  He  suggested  that  Budd  be  got  out 
of  the  house,  and  Mrs.  Woodbridge  said  she  would 
invent  a  business  errand.  Shortly  after  two  he  re- 
ceived word  that  the  coast  was  clear,  and  he  set  out 
for  the  Woodbridges'.  His  announcement  that  he 
had  made  a  satisfactory  diagnosis  of  Budd's  condi- 
tion and  could  promise  a  probable  cure  was  re- 
ceived by  Mrs.  Woodbridge  with  almost  tearful 
gratitude.  The  nature  of  the  diagnosis,  however, 
he  kept  to  himself,  explaining  merely  that  he  had 
found  a  nervous  condition  which,  he  was  confident, 
would  yield  to  treatment.  Then  he  broached  the 
subject  of  the  nurse,  and  to  his  surprise  met  with 
immediate  opposition.  Mrs.  Woodbridge  wanted 
to  take  care  of  Budd  herself. 
Jerry  shook  his  head  solemnly. 

"I  'm  sorry,"  he  said,  "but  I  can't  take  the  re- 
117 


118  THE  BOOMERANG 

sponsibility  unless  I  have  a  nurse  on  the  case." 

"But  if  we  have  a  trained  nurse  in  the  house," 
she  answered,  "everybody  in  Elmford  will  know 
that  Budd  is  ill,  and  you  know  how  that  will  annoy 
him." 

"It  is  n't  necessary  that  anybody  should  know. 
You  can  explain  her  as  a  secretary  or  companion." 

"But  is  the  nurse  you  are  sending  the  kind  of 
person  that  I  can  take  into  the  house  in  that  way?" 
she  demanded. 

"Of  course  I  only  know  her  as  a  nurse,"  Jerry 
answered,  "but  she  is  a  lady,  quite  young  and,  I 
suppose,  rather  pretty.  Naturally  a  doctor  does  n't 
think  of  that  sort  of  thing  in  regard  to  nurses." 

Mrs.  Woodbridge  still  hesitated. 

"If  you  're  afraid  of  her  having  designs  on 
Budd's  young  affections,"  he  said,  "I  don't  think 
there  's  any  ground  for  it.  In  my  opinion  he  's 
safe  for  the  present." 

She  shot  him  a  quick  look. 

"You  think  he 's  interested  in  some  one  al- 
ready?" 

"You  ought  to  know  better  than  I  do,"  Jerry  an- 
swered, not  altogether  ingenuously. 

"I  had  an  idea  that  he  was,"  she  answered,  "but 
since  he  's  been  ill  he  's  been  very  strange.  He  's 
seen  very  little  of  her." 


THE  BOOMERANG  119 

"So  much  the  better,"  said  Jerry.  "My  advice 
is  that  Budd  shall  see  nothing  of  her,  if  there  is  a 
her,  or  any  of  his  old  friends  for  a  month  at  least. 
In  fact,  that  is  part  of  the  treatment  that  I  have 
prescribed.  For  this  reason  it  is  all  the  better  that 
there  should  be  some  young  person  in  the  house  that 
he  can  talk  to.  He  must  be  kept  as  cheerful  as 
possible,  and  every  effort  made  not  only  to 
break  with  old  associations,  but  to  establish  new 


ones." 


"I  suppose  you  know  best,"  said  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge,  resignedly.  "Does  the  nurse  live  in  Elm- 
ford?" 

"No,"  he  answered,  "she  's  a  stranger." 

Mrs.  Woodbridge  revived  a  little. 

"I  'm  glad  of  that,"  she  said.  "There  won't  be 
any  gossip.  What  is  her  name?" 

"Xelva.     Miss  Virginia  Xelva." 

"Hardly  an  American  name." 

"I  believe  she  is  of  foreign  parentage." 

"Of  course  you  know  all  about  her?"  Mrs. 
Woodbridge  asked  significantly. 

Miss  Xelva's  childlike  blue  eyes  seemed  to 
be  turned  on  him.  "Confound  these  suspicious 
women,"  he  thought  resentfully. 

"I  am  ready  to  take  full  responsibility  for  her," 
he  answered. 


120  THE  BOOMERANG 

Mrs.  Woodbridge  sighed  resignedly. 

"Well,  we  shall  be  ready  for  her  this  afternoon," 
she  said,  and  Jerry  departed. 

A  little  after  four  the  subject  of  this  discussion, 
having  finished  her  office  duties  for  the  day,  put  on 
her  hat  and  turned  her  steps  toward  Willow  Street. 
Before  a  shabby,  pretentious  brick  house  she 
stopped  and  turned  in.  An  iron  deer  stood  at  bay 
upon  the  neglected  front  lawn  and  bore  out  the 
general  suggestion  that  the  Perkins  mansion  had 
seen  better  days. 

At  the  moment  of  Miss  Xelva's  approach  Miss 
Perkins  was  visiting  with  Miss  Twombly,  for  many 
years  the  star  boarder,  in  the  up-stairs  front  room. 
As  the  click  of  the  front  gate  sounded,  two  pairs  of 
eyes  behind  the  muslin  curtains  were  leveled  at 
the  approaching  figure. 

"Speaking  of  angels,"  said  Miss  Twombly,  sig- 
nificantly. 

"All  I  can  say,"  observed  Miss  Perkins,  as  if  re- 
peating a  remark  just  uttered,  "is  that  she  looks 
very  much  like  a  lady." 

"But  you  admit  you  know  nothing  about  her," 
said  Miss  Twombly,  triumphantly.  "You  can't 
tell  me  that  it 's  natural,  or  accidental  for  that  mat- 
ter, for  a  girl  with  clothes  like  that  to  appear  in 
Elmford  with  seven  trunks  and  take  a  position  in 


THE  BOOMERANG  121 

Gerald  Sumner's  office  the  same  week  that  he  gets 
back  from  eight  years  in  Paris." 

"I  don't  know  why  not,"  said  Miss  Perkins, 
weakly. 

"You  know  perfectly  well." 

"But  what  can  I  do  about  it?"  demanded  Miss 
Perkins. 

"That  is  for  you  to  decide,  Sarah,"  said  Miss 
Twomfaly;  "but  if  the  responsibility  were  on  my 
shoulders,  I  should  certainly  have  a  talk  with  her." 

"But  what  can  I  say  to  her?  She  never  goes  out 
in  the  evenings." 

"You  can  ask  her  where  she  comes  from?  She 
gets  no  mail." 

"She  gets  one  letter." 

"With  a  French  postmark  on  it,"  said  Miss 
Twombly,  scornfully.  "It  seems  to  me  that  if  I 
were  in  your  place  I  should  have  a  plain  talk  with 
Addison  Sumner." 

"Perhaps  I  ought  to,"  said  Miss  Perkins.  "But 
she  seems  like  such  a  sweet  girl." 

"Adventuresses  all  do.  Of  course  it 's  not  on 
my  account.  Thank  goodness  I  'm  old  enough  to 
look  out  for  myself.  But  with  three  respectable 
young  men  boarding  with  you  besides  Anna  Hawes 
you  've  got  to  know  about  the  people  you  take  into 
your  house." 


122  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  suppose  that 's  so,"  Miss  Perkins  said  hum- 
bly. "I  '11  sound  her  a  little." 

They  listened  as  Miss  Xelva  came  up-stairs  and 
shut  the  door  of  her  room. 

"There 's  no  time  like  the  present,"  said  Miss 
Twombly.  A  few  minutes  later  Miss  Perkins,  de- 
pressed and  irresolute,  withdrew  to  carry  out  her 
conscientious  mission.  Miss  Twombly,  grim  and 
virtuous,  went  on  with  her  knitting.  Ten  minutes 
later  the  door  opened  again,  and  Miss  Perkins  re- 
turned, obviously  in  triumph. 

"Well?"  said  Miss  Twombly,  apprehensive  lest 
all  should  be  right. 

"She  's  going,"  said  Miss  Perkins,  "that  is,  for 
a  month.  She  wants  to  keep  her  room,  leave  her 
baggage,  and  pay  her  board  just  as  if  she  was 
here." 

"But  I  don't  see  that  that 's  finding  out  anything 
about  her,"  said  Miss  Twombly,  her  wilted  hopes 
rising. 

"You  'd  think  so  if  you  knew  where  she  was  go- 
ing," said  Miss  Perkins.  She  paused  as  an  orator 
pauses  to  obtain  his  effect,  then  added,  "She  's  go- 
ing to  Caroline  Woodbridge's  as  a  companion  and 
secretary." 

Miss  Twombly  was  staggered,  but  not  defeated. 

"Caroline  Woodbridge  is  a  particular  woman," 


THE  BOOMERANG  123 

she  admitted,  "but  all  the  same  I  should  feel  more 
comfortable  if  I  knew  something  about  the  girl. 
If  I  were  in  your  place,  I  'd  certainly  speak  to  her." 

"If  she  's  good  enough  for  Caroline  Woodbridge 
to  take  into  her  house,  I  'm  satisfied,"  said  Miss 
Perkins  with  spirit.  "If  you  're  so  anxious,  you 
can  speak  to  her  yourself." 

An  hour  later  an  expressman  called  for  one  of 
Miss  Xelva's  seven  trunks,  and  shortly  afterwards 
Miss  Xelva  followed  it  to  the  Woodbridge  mansion. 

Though,  as  Miss  Twombly  had  said,  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge  was  indeed  a  particular  woman,  she  was 
also  a  kind  one.  After  she  had  reconciled  herself 
to  the  idea  of  having  a  nurse  in  the  house,  there 
was  no  question  in  her  mind  about  making  the 
nurse  welcome. 

The  September  dusk  was  falling  when  Miss 
Xelva  rang  the  bell  and  was  ushered  into  the  family 
living-room.  The  shades  were  drawn  and  the 
lamps  lighted.  As  Mrs.  Woodbridge  came  for- 
ward and  extended  her  hand,  the  new-comer's  face 
was  in  shadow. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  Mrs.  Woodbridge  was 
saying.  "Dr.  Sumner  has  told  me  pleasant  things 
about  you." 

"I  'm  afraid  he  's  told  you  more  than  was  true," 
the  girl  answered. 


124  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  'm  not  anxious  about  that,"  said  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge.  "Do  sit  down." 

As  the  girl  seated  herself  the  light  fell  upon  her 
face.  Mrs.  Woodbridge  started,  and  a  little  ex- 
clamation escaped  her. 

The  girl  looked  up  wonderingly.  The  older 
woman  was  still  gazing  at  her. 

"You  look  so  much  like  an  old  friend,"  she 
said.  "It  gave  me  a  shock  as  if  I  had  seen  a 
ghost." 

The  girl  laughed  softly. 

"I  seem  to  be  one  of  the  people  who  are  always 
being  taken  for  some  one  else,"  she  answered. 
"You  know  there  are  such  people.  I  suppose  it 
shows  that  I  have  n't  any  character  of  my  own." 

Mrs.  Woodbridge  smiled. 

"I  don't  think  it  shows  that  at  all.  Just  the  re- 
verse. You  have  so  much  character  that  you  're 
a  little  like  every  one  else.  But  I  mustn't  keep 
you  now.  We  dine  at  half -past  seven.  I  suppose 
you  'd  like  to  go  to  your  room  and  get  unpacked." 
She  rang  a  bell,  and  a  man  servant  appeared. 
"Hartley,"  she  said,  "please  show  Miss  Xelva  to 
her  room  and  send  Margaret  to  her." 

Virginia  hesitated,  then  turned,  and  held  out  her 
hand. 

"Please  let  me  thank  you,"  she  said,  with  a 


THE  BOOMERANG  125 

little  choke  in  her  voice.     "You  are  so  good." 

As  she  went  out  Mrs.  Woodbridge  followed  her 
with  her  eyes.  The  contour  of  the  slim  figure,  the 
way  it  moved,  recalled  more  sharply  than  before 
that  haunting  resemblance  that  had  startled  her. 
A  moment  later,  yielding  to  a  mastering  impulse, 
she  went  hurriedly  up-stairs  and  knocked  at  the 
girl's  door. 

"Do  you  mind  coming  to  my  room  for  a 
minute?"  she  asked.  "I  want  to  speak  to  you. 
Margaret  will  unpack." 

Miss  Xelva  followed  her,  wondering.  The  two 
women  went  into  the  room.  The  door  closed  be- 
hind them.  An  hour  passed  before  Virginia  came 
out  again. 

What  took  place  between  them  they  told  no  one, 
but  at  dinner  Mrs.  Woodbridge  addressed  the  girl 
by  her  first  name. 

"You  see,"  she  said  to  Budd,  "we  've  taken  Vir- 
ginia into  the  family." 

If  Miss  Twombly  had  been  witness  to  this  scene, 
her  mind  might  have  been  relieved.  On  the  other 
hand,  her  suspicions  might  have  been  intensified, 
her  theory  being  that  really  dangerous  adventur- 
esses wear  the  mask  of  virtue. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  next  morning  Budd  began  his  new  regime. 
By  six  Virginia  had  taken  his  pulse  and  tem- 
perature for  the  chart,  and  he  was  out  in  flannels 
and  a  sweater  for  his  half-hour's  dog-trot.  He 
came  back  somewhat  out  of  breath,  but  glowing 
from  the  exercise,  ready  for  his  bath  and  break- 
fast. After  breakfast  and  a  half  hour  with  the 
morning  papers  he  got  into  flannels  again  and  re- 
paired to  the  old  gymnasium  that  had  been  fitted 
up  for  him  in  the  attic  when  he  was  a  boy,  and 
began  working  with  chest-weights  and  dumb-bells. 
Jerry  had  prescribed  a  somewhat  severe  course  of 
exercise,  but  Budd  was  young  and  muscular,  and 
the  physical  work  seemed  from  the  beginning  to 
relieve  the  emotional  strain  that  he  had  been  un- 
dergoing. 

At  eleven-thirty  he  appeared  at  Jerry's  office, 
whither  Virginia  had  preceded  him  for  the  day's 
office  hours,  and  was  given  his  serum  treatment. 

"I  think  you  're  looking  better  already,"  said 
Jerry,  cheerfully.  "Miss  Xelva  tells  me  that 

126 


THE  BOOMERANG  127 

you  've  taken  hold  like  a  bulldog.  No  bad  results 
following  yesterday's  serum?" 

Budd  shook  his  head  and  grinned.  Jerry's  per- 
sonality acted  like  a  tonic.  A  man  immune  from 
jealousy  and  the  weaknesses  that  ordinary  mortals 
are  subject  to  was  a  continuing  inspiration. 

"I  'm  getting  along  fine,"  he  answered.  "In  a 
week  I  won't  know  myself,  thanks  to  the  microbes." 

"Well,  that 's  the  way  to  look  at  it,"  said  Jerry. 
"I  think  you  're  going  to  be  a  conscientious  patient, 
and  if  you  are  n't,  I  Ve  got  a  watch-dog  to  keep 
track  of  you.  Miss  Xelva  has  instructions  to  be 
merciless." 

Budd  grinned  again  at  Virginia,  who  was  disap- 
pearing with  the  tray  on  which  reposed  the  miracu- 
lous serum  and  implements  of  inoculation. 

"Do  you  think  you  are  going  to  get  along  with 
her?"  Jerry  asked  as  she  closed  the  door. 

"Oh,  fine!"  said  Budd.  "You  ought  to  see  how 
mother  has  taken  to  her.  Calls  her  'my  dear'  and 
'Virgie'  already." 

"Of  course  I  knew  she  would,"  said  Jerry,  "but 
I  'm  glad  to  hear  it."  His  gratification  was  deeper 
than  his  manner  suggested.  The  truth  was  that 
after  he  had  installed  his  office  attendant  with  Mrs. 
Woodbridge  he  had  had  some  misgivings.  It  had 
dawned  upon  him  that  it  was  one  thing  for  a 


12$  THE  BOOMERANG 

bachelor  doctor  to  engage  an  attractive  young 
woman  without  references,  but  entirely  another 
thing  to  place  her  in  a  household  like  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge's.  He  had  no  doubts  or  suspicions  himself. 
A  girl  with  eyes  like  that  could  n't  be  anything  but 
all  right,  but  he  realized  that  he  could  hardly  ex- 
pect Mrs.  Woodbridge  to  see  the  matter  from  the 
same  point  of  view  if  the  facts  had  been  explained 
to  her. 

"She  fits  in  so  well,"  Budd  went  on,  "that  I 
don't  think  even  the  servants  suspect  she  's  come  to 
look  after  me.  I  've  told  Hartley  that  I  'm  going 
into  training  so  as  to  be  in  shape  to  play  hockey 
this  winter,  and  that 's  all  there  is  to  it." 

"That  was  a  good  idea,"  said  Jerry,  "and  we  '11 
have  you  ready  for  hockey  or  ten  rounds  with  Mc- 
Govern  before  the  month  is  out.  And  as  for  old 
George  Jealousy,  you  '11  forget  there  was  any  such 
person." 

Budd  smiled  and  retired  to  the  operating-room 
for  the  siesta  that  followed  the  serum. 

When  the  door  closed  after  him,  Jerry's  cheerful 
countenance  became  thoughtful.  Inwardly  he  was 
not  feeling  the  confidence  he  avowed.  He  realized 
that  if  Grace  had  ever  cared  for  Budd  in  a  serious 
way,  his  disappearance  would  shortly  have  its 
effect,  and  he  believed  that  a  girl  like  Grace  would 


THE  BOOMERANG  129 

not  let  him  slip  away  from  her  without  making 
some  kind  of  effort  to  keep  her  hold  on  him. 
Of  course,  if  she  was  seriously  interested  in  Pres- 
ton and  had  made  up  her  mind  to  marry  him,  she 
might  be  glad  to  have  Budd  disappear,  but  Jerry 
was  far  from  being  convinced  that  such  was  the 
case.  At  all  events,  it  was  "her  move,"  and  he 
looked  forward  to  it  with  more  anxiety  than  he 
would  have  confessed.  Budd's  chances  of  getting 
what  his  heart  wanted,  if  not  of  getting  back  his 
health,  depended  on  it. 

In  the  main  Jerry's  first  impressions  of  Grace 
were  being  borne  out.  She  had  the  making  of  a 
fine  woman  if  the  right  man  came  along  to  develop 
her.  But  as  he  expressed  it  to  himself,  her  trouble 
was  that  she  was  something  more  than  a  hundred 
per  cent,  female.  Her  curiosity  as  to  the  opposite 
sex  was  insatiable.  She  simply  had  to  give  every- 
thing that  wore  trousers  the  "once  over"  and  in- 
vestigate pretty  thoroughly  all  that  showed  promise. 
It  was  all  very  well  to  call  this  the  fundamental 
impulse  of  woman  and  the  basis  of  feminine  at- 
tractiveness, but  with  Grace  it  needed  to  be  regu- 
lated. Given  a  free  hand,  it  resulted  in  atrocities 
upon  the  male  heart  compared  with  which  the  cat's 
practices  upon  the  canary  were  tenderness  and  con- 
sideration. If  Budd  could  learn  how  to  deal  with 


130  THE  BOOMERANG 

it  and  protect  himself,  all  would  be  well.  If  not, 
he  would  be  much  better  off  blighted  at  once  or 
even  comfortably  buried. 

During  the  afternoon  on  the  links  Grace  made 
no  reference  to  his  patient — an  attitude  which 
Jerry  interpreted  as  a  good  sign.  After  the  scene 
which  Jerry  divined  had  taken  place,  she  would 
have  been  more  apt  to  have  made  some  reference  to 
him  if  his  three  days'  disappearance  had  not  made 
an  impression  upon  her. 

The  fourth  day  Budd's  affairs  were  to  some  ex- 
tent driven  from  Jerry's  mind  by  a  sudden  and 
unexpected  influx  of  new  patients.  The  influx 
amount  to  only  four,  but  by  comparison  it  was 
none  the  less  an  influx.  It  appeared  that  Mrs. 
Woodbridge  was  responsible  for  it.  She  did  a 
great  deal  of  charitable  work  among  the  employees 
of  the  plow  works  of  which  her  husband  had 
been  president,  and  as  the  result  of  her  weekly 
visiting  tour,  a  woman  with  a  sprained  wrist  and 
a  child  with  whooping-cough  appeared  at  Jerry's 
office.  He  was  also  called  by  telephone  to  visit 
two  sick  people,  the  second  of  whom  proved  to  be 
suffering  with  typhoid.  The  circumstance  that 
they  had  no  money  to  pay  him  added  to  his  in- 
terest. To  be  helping  people  who  needed  help 
proved  a  new  and  agreeable  experience. 


THE  BOOMERANG  131 

Thus  it  happened  that  he  was  not  in  the  office 
when  Budd  appeared  for  his  treatment  on  the  sixth 
day.  He  had  slipped  out  a  little  after  eleven  to 
visit  the  typhoid  patient.  When  he  returned  just 
after  twelve  he  found  Budd  still  waiting  for  him. 

A  glance  at  the  boy  showed  that  something  had 
happened.  His  mouth  was  set.  The  old  look  was 
in  his  eyes. 

"Well,"  said  Jerry,  cheerfully,  "you  seem  to 
have  something  on  your  chest.  What 's  new?" 

"I  promised  you  that  I  would  n't  see  any  of  my 
old  friends,"  Budd  answered  solemnly.  "But 
what  am  I  going  to  do  about  this?"  He  reverently 
laid  on  the  desk  a  note  in  a  handwriting  that  Jerry 
recognized,  and  began  to  pace  the  floor. 

"Am  I  to  read  this?" 

The  boy  nodded. 

"  'DEAR  BUDD,'  "  Jerry  began  aloud:  "  'Where 
are  you  keeping  yourself?' ' 

"It 's  'where  are  you  keeping  yourself,' "  cor- 
rected Budd.  "She  's  got  a  line  under  the  'are.' ' 

Jerry  gave  him  an  amazed  look  and  went 
on. 

*  'I  Ve  been  afraid  you  were  ill — and  was 
so — ' '  He  paused  in  difficulty  over  the  next 
word,  but  was  promptly  assisted  by  Budd  from  the 
other  side  of  the  room. 


132  THE  BOOMERANG 

"That  word  is  'glad,9  "  he  said.  "It  reads,  'I  've 
been  afraid  you  were  ill  and  was  so  glad  to  hear 
you  were  out  walking  yesterday.' ' 

"Letter-perfect,"  observed  Jerry,  following  the 
manuscript.  Then  he  read  on:  "  'I  'm  giving  a 
bridge  party  Thursday  evening,  and  you  must 
come,  As  ever,  GRACE.'  '  He  paused  thought- 
fully. Grace  had  moved.  This  was  her  play. 

"There  's  some  more  on  the  next  page,"  said 
Budd.  "  'p.  s.  Come  early.'  " 

Jerry  turned  the  page,  verified  Budd's  announce- 
ment, and  smiled. 

"You  seem  to  have  a  fairly  correct  idea  of  the 
contents  of  this  epistle,"  he  observed.  He  tossed 
it  back  to  Budd,  who  replaced  it  tenderly  in  his 
breast  pocket.  Jerry  regarded  him  in  silence,  con- 
sidering the  situation.  Obviously  Grace  was  not 
ready  to  let  Budd  slip  away;  in  all  probability  it 
indicated  two  things:  first,  that  she  was  not  engaged 
to  Preston,  and,  also,  that  she  liked  Budd  more 
than  she  allowed  him  to  believe.  At  the  same  time 
if  she  could  whistle  him  back  like  a  dog  whenever 
she  pleased,  the  matter  would  be  where  it  was  a 
week  ago.  The  trouble  was  that  Budd  gave  every 
indication  of  being  anxious  to  be  whistled  back. 

"Well,"  said  Jerry  at  last,  "what  is  your  idea 
about  this  party?  Do  you  want  to  go  to  it?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  133 

"Don't  you  think  it  might  be  a  good  thing?  Just 
this  once?  I  'm  so  much  better  you  see — " 

"Then  your  idea  would  be  to  write:  'DEAR 
GRACE:  It  is  very  good  of  you  to  think  of  me.  I 
shall  love  to  come'?" 

"Something  like  that,"  said  Budd.  "It  would 
show  I  was  getting  well  again." 

"The  first  person  you  'd  meet  would  be  Preston 
De  Witt.  Grace  would  be  civil  to  him,  and  in  five 
minutes  you  'd  throw  a  fit  and  want  to  strangle  him, 
and  you  'd  ask  Grace  what  she  meant  by  having 
him  at  the  party.  She  'd  hand  you  some  plain 
talk,  and  then  you  'd  be  back  here  on  the  run  ask- 
ing for  a  double  dose  of  bugs.  Is  n't  that  right?" 

Budd  made  no  answer.  His  eyes  brimmed,  and 
he  turned  toward  the  window. 

"No,"  said  Jerry,  kindly;  "this  is  n't  the  time  to 
accept  invitations.  This  is  our  one  best  chance, 
Budd.  The  bugs  for  curing  the  jealousy  are  all 
right,  but  they  can't  do  it  all  off  their  own  bat. 
We  've  got  to  help  'em.  Here  and  now  you  've  got 
to  learn  the  first  principles  of  dealing  with  that 
most  dangerous  of  animals,  the  female  of  our 
species.  It  is  n't  that  my  nerves  are  so  much  better 
than  yours  that  I  Ve  escaped  from  your  disease, 
but  because  I  use  a  little  common  sense  and  realize 
what  I  'm  up  against." 


134  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  suppose  you  're  right,"  said  Budd,  despair- 
ingly, "only  if  you  have  n't  any  common  sense 
what  are  you  going  to  do?" 

"Take  the  advice  of  a  good  doctor,"  said  Jerry 
with  a  grin,  "just  as  you  're  going  to  do.  Now 
we  '11  attend  to  this  correspondence  of  yours  as  it 
ought  to  be  done.  The  great  thing  in  a  situation 
like  this  is  to  keep  the  other  fellow  guessing.  If 
you  come  running  when  they  whistle,  it 's  all  off, 
but  if  they  're  not  sure  about  you,  it  adds  interest. 
Never  forget  that  the  lady  is  a  hunting  animal  and 
if  you  want  to  get  along  comfortably  with  her,  it 's 
a  good  thing  to  keep  her  busy  hunting.  My  idea 
of  an  answer  is  something  like  this."  He  took  a 
pencil  and  began  to  write  on  the  scribble  pad,  read- 
ing aloud  as  he  went  along: 

"  'GRACE  DEAR' — You  see,  you  want  to  be 
friendly,"  he  explained. 

Budd  smiled  a  sickly  smile. 

"  'So  nice  to  hear  from  you — don't  count  on  me 
for  Thursday,  but  you  know  I  '11  come  if  I  can. 
Awfully  busy.  Affectionately  and  hurriedly, 
BUDD." 

Budd  listened  without  enthusiasm. 

"Is  that  all?" 

"It 's  enough.     What  do  you  think  of  it?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  135 

"Well,"  said  Budd,  "it  does  n't  sound  very  much 
like  my  letters." 

"Of  course  it  does  n't.  That 's  the  point  of  it. 
Henceforth  you  're  a  new  and  different  Budd, 
much  less  easily  picked  and,  therefore,  much  more 
desirable.  Some  day  you  can  explain  to  her  how 
the  nice  little  bugs  have  made  you  over  into  a  new 
and  wiser  man." 

"All  right,"  said  Budd,  resignedly.  "I  '11  copy 
it  off."  He  took  Jerry's  draft  and  started  for  the 
door. 

Jerry  appeared  to  be  lost  in  thought,  but  before 
Budd  got  out,  he  called  him  back. 

"Just  a  minute,"  he  said.  "While  we  're  at  it 
we  might  as  well  get  number  two  off  our  chests." 

"Number  two?"  Budd  asked  in  perplexity. 

Jerry  nodded. 

"Yes,  our  next  effort.  You  won't  go  to  the 
party;  so  the  day  after  it  will  be  only  civil  to  send 
a  line  calling  attention  to  the  fact  in  case  she  hasn't 
missed  you."  He  wrote: 

DEAR  GRACE:  Awfully  sorry  I  missed  the  party. 
Can  you  forgive  me?  Terribly  ashamed.  Forgot  all 
about  it.  BUDD. 

Budd  regarded  him  in  shocked  amazement. 


136  THE  BOOMERANG 

"But  what  will  she  think!"  he  gasped. 

"That 's  what  we  are  going  to  find  out." 

"But  she  '11  never  speak  to  me  again." 

"Well,  you  wanted  to  be  cured,  didn't  you?" 
said  Jerry.  "If  she  never  speaks  to  you  again, 
that 's  one  way  of  doing  it;  but  it 's  just  possible 
that  she  won't  take  it  that  way.  If  by  any  chance 
you  should  hear  anything  from  her,  come  in  and 
tell  me  about  it." 

Budd  sighed. 

"She  '11  never  write  me  again,"  he  faltered,  and 
started  for  the  door. 

"Do  you  want  to  bet  on  that?"  Jerry  called  after 
him,  but  there  was  no  answer. 

A  week  passed,  and  Budd's  daily  visits  to  the 
office  were  solely  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  the 
treatment  administed  by  Miss  Xelva.  Jerry  met 
him  once  as  he  passed  through  the  hall  to  speak  to 
a  patient  in  the  waiting-room  and  noted  that  he  was 
looking  well  and  seemed  to  have  recovered  from 
his  temporary  set-back.  He  had  no  time  to  stop 
and  talk,  for  the  waiting-room  was  half  full  of  new 
patients.  His  success  with  the  first  four,  not  im- 
probably assisted  by  the  circumstance  that  he  de- 
clined a  fee  from  the  family  with  the  typhoid  suf- 
ferer, sent  the  whole  of  Milltown  flocking  to  his 
office;  so  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  was  really 


THE  BOOMERANG  137 

hard  at  work.  The  result  was  to  drive  Budd's 
problem  to  a  certain  extent  out  of  his  mind  and 
make  him  rely  on  the  favorable  repprts  that  Vir- 
ginia brought  him  daily. 

On  the  following  Thursday,  however,  just  after 
Budd  had  had  his  treatment,  Virginia  came  in  and 
announced  that  her  patient  wished  to  see  him. 

"Well,"  said  Jerry,  "I  suppose  you  want  to  tell 
me  you  've  been  gaining  weight..  How  much  is 
it?" 

"Five  and  three  quarters  this  morning,"  Budd 
answered,  "but  that  isn't  what  I  want  to  tell 
you." 

"Out  with  it,  then.     What  is  it?" 

Budd  grinned  sheepishly. 

"I  've  had  another  letter." 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  said  Jerry. 

Budd  grinned  again.  His  hand  went  to  his 
breast  pocket,  and  he  laid  the  missive  on  the  desk. 

Jerry  opened  it  and  read: 

MY  DEAR  BUDD:  You  're  a  bad  boy — and  I  'm  dread- 
fully angry  with  you.  But  for  once  I  '11  forgive  you — 
just  because  you  Ve  asked  me  to.  Is  n't  that  good  of  me? 
If  you  've  nothing  better  to  do  drop  in  to-morrow  for 
tea.  GRACE. 

P.  S.  Be  here  at  four.  There  are  some  people  com- 
ing at  five. 


138  THE  BOOMERANG 

Jerry  considered  this  epistle  with  a  satisfaction 
which  he  made  an  effort  to  conceal. 

"You  see,  I  was  right  about  her  forgiving  you," 
he  said. 

"I  think  it  was  awfully  good  of  her,"  said  Budd. 
"It  was  fearfully  rude  to  write  that  I  'd  forgotten 
about  the  bridge  party." 

"It  was,"  said  Jerry,  "and  I  've  every  hope  thai 
we  '11  make  a  real  rude  man  of  you  yet,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  good  little  bugs,  but  I  suppose  all 
this  goodness  has  upset  you  again." 

"No,"  said  Budd;  "only  I  really  do  think  I  ought 
to  go  just  this  once." 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Jerry.  He  turned  his  eyes 
upward  and  gazed  at  the  ceiling  as  if  doing  a  prob- 
lem in  mental  arithmetic. 

"Just  seeing  her  once  could  n't  hurt  me,"  Budd 
ventured.  "I  'm  so  much  better  now." 

Jerry,  apparently  having  solved  his  problem, 
turned  on  him  suddenly. 

"Do  you  know  where  she  is  at  present?"  he  de- 
manded. 

Budd  flushed  guiltily. 

"I  saw  her  motoring  out  toward  the  country  club 
about  half  an  hour  ago.  She  did  n't  see  me.  It 
was  just  as  I  was  coming  over  here  for  my  treat- 
ment." 


THE  BOOMERANG  139 

"Good,"  said  Jerry.  He  picked  up  the  desk 
telephone.  "What 's  her  number?" 

Budd  gave  it. 

"Here,"  Jerry  said  as  he  handed  him  the  instru- 
ment, "call  up  the  house,  ask  for  her,  and  when  you 
find  she  's  out,  leave  word  that  you  can't  possibly 
manage  to  get  in  to-morrow,  but  that  you  '11  explain 
later." 

Pain  showed  on  the  boy's  countenance. 

"But  why  should  n't  I  go  just  this  once?"  he  fal- 
tered. "It  won't  interfere  with  my  walk." 

Jerry  picked  up  the  letter  again. 

"I  '11  tell  you  why.  Perhaps  you  did  n't  notice 
that  she  advised  you  to  come  at  four  because  some 
people  were  coming  in  at  five.  Have  n't  you 
imagination  enough  to  tell  you  who  'some  people' 
means?" 

For  answer  Budd  took  the  instrument. 

"Give  me  five  four  six  three  Elm,"  he  told  the 
operator. 

"That 's  better,"  said  Jerry  and  smiled  approv- 
ingly while  Budd  spoke  his  piece  and  rang  off. 

"But  when  shall  I  explain  why  I  can't  come?" 
Budd  asked. 

"You  're  young,"  said  Jerry.  "You  've  got  a 
lifetime  to  explain  in.  Don't  be  in  a  hurry  about 
it.  There  is  nothing  that  will  interest  Grace  as 


140  THE  BOOMERANG 

much  as  things  that  are  unexplained.  As  I  've 
told  you,  your  job  is  not  only  to  get  well,  but  to  be- 
come interesting." 

Budd  gazed  at  him,  misery  mingling  with  ad- 
miration. 

"I  wish  I  were  like  you,"  he  said,  and  departed. 


CHAPTER  XI 

ALTHOUGH  Miss  Xelva's  installation  at  the 
Woodbridges  entirely  satisfied  Miss  Perkins 
as  to  the  propriety  of  her  social  status,  Miss  Twom- 
bly  clung  to  her  doubts.     Naturally  she  knew  noth- 
ing of  what  passed  between  Mrs.  Woodbridge  and 
Miss  Xelva  on  the  evening  of  the  latter's  arrival, 
but  she  knew  that  she  was  much  more  a  woman 
of  the  world  than  Miss  Perkins  and  hence  more 
responsible  for  the  morals  of  the  community.     For 
the  ten  days  following  Miss  Xelva's  departure  from 
the  boarding-house  she  directed  her  morning  walk 
up  Elm  Street  in  the  hope  of  meeting  Colonel  Sum- 
ner.     It  so  happened  that  she  encountered  him  on 
the  morning  that  Jerry  had  discussed  with  Budd 
Grace's '  invitation  to  tea.     Just  what  passed  be- 
tween them  or  how  she  managed  to  satisfy  her  pub- 
lic-spirited conscience  is  immaterial,  but  that  even- 
ing after  Marion  had  gone  to  bed  the  colonel  lit  a 
fresh  cigar  and  began  with  a  diplomatic  indirection 
which  indicated  that  something  was  on  his  mind. 
"Jerry,"  he  said,  "I  want  to  tell  you  that  the  way 

141 


142  THE  BOOMERANG 

you  've  been  taking  hold  of  your  work  has  pleased 
me  more  than  I  can  say.  Frankly,  I  did  n't  expect 
it  so  soon.  It 's  all  very  well  to  say  that  Caroline 
Woodbridge  has  sent  these  people  to  you,  but  if 
you  were  n't  making  good,  they  would  n't  come." 

"I  'm  sure  I  'm  glad  that  you  're  glad,"  said 
Jerry.  "I  Ve  certainly  had  good  luck." 

"It 's  more  than  luck,"  said  the  colonel, 
warmly.  "I  'm  proud  of  you." 

"You  can  go  as  far  as  you  like,"  said  Jerry, 
cheerfully.  "I  've  got  quite  a  back  account  to 
settle  before  I  'm  in  danger  of  getting  much  of  an 
idea  of  myself.  But  there  is  one  thing  this  town 
ought  to  have,"  he  added,  "and  that  is  a  proper 
hospital.  If  I  make  good  I  'm  going  to  try  to  see 
to  it  that  it  gets  one." 

'  "You're  right  about  that,"   said  the  colonel. 
"We  '11  have  to  take  hold  of  it  one  of  these  days." 

"If  we  could  touch  some  one  for  about  a  mil- 
lion." 

"We  '11  get  it,"  the  colonel  assented. 

There  was  silence,  and  he  flicked  the  ashes  of 
his  cigar  in  the  direction  of  the  fireplace. 

"By  the  way,"  he  said  casually,  "that  little  office 
nurse  of  yours  seems  an  intelligent,  capable  sort 
of  girl." 

"She  is,"  said  Jerry.     "I  don't  know  how  I  'd 


THE  BOOMERANG  143 

get  along  without  her.  She  looks  after  these  poor 
people  that  come  in  with  little  surgical  cases  as  if 
she  were  father,  mother,  nurse,  and  house  surgeon 
all  in  one.  She 's  a  wonder.  And  besides  all 
that,  she  's  looking  after  Budd  on  the  side.  That 's 
confidential,"  he  added.  "I  told  you  that  he'd 
been  in  to  consult  me,  but  Mrs.  Woodbridge  did  n't 
want  it  known  that  he  was  under  regular  treat- 
ment." 

"I  see,"  said  the  colonel,  congratulating  him- 
self that  the  subject  had  opened  so  naturally.  "Is 
it  anything  serious?" 

"Nerves,"  Jerry  answered.  "He  '11  come 
through  all  right.  But  I  wanted  some  one  on  the 
job  to  keep  tabs  on  him.  The  fact  is  that  Miss 
Xelva  is  supposed  to  be  at  the  Woodbridges'  in  the 
capacity  of  secretary  to  Mrs.  Woodbridge.  She 
does  n't  want  it  known  that  Budd  is  a  patient." 

"I  see,"  said  the  colonel  again.  "You  were 
lucky  to  find  a  trained  nurse  that  you  could  send 
to  the  Woodbridges  in  that  way.  Where  did  you 
get  hold  of  her?" 

"Just  turned  up.     Dropped  from  heaven." 

The  colonel  looked  somewhat  gravely  at  his  son. 

"Of  course  that 's  a  figure  of  speech,"  he  said. 
"Her  references  must  have  told  you  something 
about  her." 


144  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  never  asked  for  her  references.  She 's  a 
lady,  and  that 's  enough." 

"But  you  must  know  something  about  her.  You 
could  n't  very  well  put  her  in  Mrs.  Woodbridge's 
house  without  knowing  who  she  was." 

Jerry  met  his  father's  eye. 

"What  has  happened?"  he  demanded  quietly. 

"Nothing  has  happened." 

"Yes,  there  has,"  said  Jerry,  firmly.  "Some 
one  has  been  talking.  Is  it  Marion?" 

"Marion  has  never  mentioned  Miss  Xelva  to  me 
except  when  she  first  came.  I  recall  her  saying 
that  you  had  engaged  a  very  nice-looking  young 
woman  as  nurse  and  office  attendant." 

"Has  Mrs.  Woodbridge  said  anything?" 

The  colonel  shook  his  head. 

"She  's  never  spoken  of  her  to  me." 

"Well,  somebody  has  been  talking  to  you,"  in- 
sisted Jerry,  "and  I  won't  have  it.  That  girl  is 
more  nearly  a  saint  than  anybody  I  've  ever  known, 
and  I  'm  not  going  to  have  anybody  making  insin- 
uations." 

"Still,  you  must  be  reasonable,"  said  the  colonel. 
"You  come  back  from  abroad,  and  just  as  you  start 
practice,  a  very  attractive  young  woman,  appar- 
ently a  foreigner,  appears  in  Elmford  without  ap- 
parent reason,  and  you  take  her  into  your  office 


THE  BOOMERANG  145 

and  assign  her  to  a  peculiarly  confidential  case  in 
Mrs.  Woodbridge's  house.  Just  let  me  finish.  If 
you  say  it 's  all  right,  that  ends  the  matter  as  far 
as  I  am  concerned ;  but  you  must  see,  my  boy,  that 
a  young  doctor  just  starting  to  practise  in  a  place 
like  Elmford  has  to  be  exceedingly  careful.  It 
is  n't  fair  to  Miss  Xelva,  and  it  is  n't  fair  to  Caro- 
line Woodbridge." 

Jerry  was  on  his  feet,  his  eyes  flashing  wrath- 
fully. 

"Of  all  the  outrageous,  infamous,  filthy,  rot- 
ten suspicions,"  he  burst  out,  "this  is  the  worst! 
You  might  just  as  well  talk  this  way  about  Marion, 
and  I  don't  know  but  what  you  might  have  a  great 
deal  more  reason.  She  's  always  doing  outrageous 
things,  but  this  girl — why,  Father,  if  you  knew  Vir- 
ginia as  I  have  come  to  know  her  and  depend  on 
her  during  the  last  three  weeks,  you  'd  be  ashamed 
of  the  very  thought.  I  never  saw  any  one  as  fine 
and  with  as  much  character  and  sheer  goodness. 
Just  one  look  face  to  face  with  her  is  enough  to 
satisfy  anybody.  Mrs.  Woodbridge  is  crazy  about 
her,  calls  her  by  her  first  name,  and  treats  her  like 
a  member  of  the  family." 

"I  don't  doubt  that  all  you  say  is  true,"  said  the 
colonel.  "Only  the  fact  remains  that  you  don't 
know  anything  about  her,  and  the  circumstance 


146  THE  BOOMERANG 

that  Mrs.  Woodbridge  has  taken  to  her  puts  all  the 
more  responsibility  on  to  you.  It  ought  to  be  per- 
fectly simple  to  find  out  something  about  her  if  she 
is  half  what  you  say  she  is,  and  all  I  am  asking  is 
that  you  take  the  simple  precautions  which  com- 
mon sense  and  convention  demand." 

Jerry  controlled  himself  with  difficulty  and  was 
silent  for  a  time.  Then  he  said : 

"I  '11  see  Mrs.  Woodbridge,  but  I  wish  you 
would  tell  me  who  's  been  talking  to  you.  Is  it 
any  one  in  this  house?" 

"It  was  no  one  in  this  house,"  the  colonel 
answered.  "More  than  that  I  can't  say.  But 
don't  think  that  I  don't  quite  agree  with  you  about 
Miss  Xelva.  But  in  fairness  to  her  you  ought  to 
get  her  references  and  find  out  why  she  is  doing 
something  which  from  what  I  have  gathered  seems 
somewhat  different  from  what  she  has  been  accus- 
tomed to.  Can't  you  see  that  this  is  the  reasonable 
course?" 

"It  may  be,"  Jerry  answered.  "But  it  makes 
me  sore  all  the  way  through.  However,  I  '11  have 
a  talk  with  Mrs.  Woodbridge  to-morrow." 

"That 's  all  I  ask,"  said  the  colonel. 

The  next  afternoon  a  little  after  five  Jerry  started 
on  foot  for  the  Woodbridges'.  He  was  still  angry 
and  indignant,  though  he  now  had  himself  in  hand 


THE  BOOMERANG  147 

and  could  see  the  force  of  his  father's  contention. 
What  fortified  his  indignation  arid  made  it  right- 
eous in  his  own  eyes,  at  least,  was  his  attitude  to- 
ward the  girl.  If  he  had  ever  thought  of  her  ex- 
cept as  he  might  think  of  his  sister  or  as  a  father 
might  think  of  his  daughter,  he  would  not  have 
been  so  sure  of  himself.  But  Jerry  knew  the  world 
too  well  to  be  taken  in.  If  Virginia  was  not  what 
she  appeared  to  be,  he  knew  that  he  would  have 
found  it  out.  Mr.  Emerson  exclaims,  "How  can 
a  man  be  concealed?"  Jerry  knew  that  it  would 
be  even  more  impossible  for  a  woman  working 
daily  in  his  office.  She  had  always  faced  him  with 
the  same  frank,  trustful  eyes  that  had  appealed  to 
him  the  day  that  she  asked  him  for  a  position.  He 
always  thought  of  her  as  a  child  rather  than  as  a 
woman;  yet  as  the  days  passed,  her  judgment, 
capability,  and  quickness  of  perception  made  him 
rely  upon  her  as  he  would  have  relied  upon  a  man. 
Just  how  much  he  had  come  to  rely  upon  her  he 
first  realized  during  the  conversation  with  his 
father,  when  the  possibility  of  doing  without  her 
had  passed  through  his  mind.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  she  had  not  only  helped  him  at  every  turn,  but 
he  could  see  now  that  it  was  her  fine  enthusiasm 
for  helping  suffering  that  first  made  him  see  the 
possibilities  of  his  profession  and  led  him  to  take 


148  THE  BOOMERANG 

himself  seriously.  The  results  of  a  few  short 
weeks  of  this  new  attitude  toward  his  work  had 
been  so  fruitful  that  he  felt  himself  under  deep 
obligations  to  her  already.  All  this  intensified  his 
resentment  at  the  village  gossip  that  was  evidently 
beginning  to  spread  about  her.  At  the  same  time 
a  day's  reflection  had  made  him  realize  that  the 
situation  was  one  that  demanded  treatment  with 
a  light  hand. 

The  girl  obviously  had  been  brought  up  in  an 
atmosphere  of  good  breeding  and  at  least  a  degree 
of  luxury.  It  was  also  evident  that  something  had 
happened  to  throw  her  out  upon  the  world,  de- 
pendent upon  her  own  efforts  for  a  living;  but  until 
she  chose  to  speak  of  these  things,  they  were  her 
own  affair.  He  was  resolved  not  to  subject  her  to 
the  humiliation  of  answering  leading  questions. 
He  was  also  resolved  to  protect  her  from  the  Elm- 
ford  gossips.  The  only  way  that  he  saw  of  accom- 
plishing this  was  to  talk  frankly  with  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge. 

As  he  reached  the  latter's  house,  he  noticed  a 
half-familiar  runabout  standing  by  the  curb.  He 
turned  in  and  went  up  the  walk  toward  the  front 
door.  Just  as  he  reached  the  veranda,  the  door 
opened,  and,  Preston  De  Witt  came  out.  If  it  had 


THE  BOOMERANG  149 

been  the  kaiser,  Jerry's  surprise  could  not  have 
been  greater. 

"Hello,  Preston,"  he  said. 

"Hello,"  Preston  answered  and  passed  on. 

Jerry  rang  the  bell  and  stood  gazing  at  the 
young  man.  Here  was  a  new  angle  in  the  situa- 
tion. 

Hartley,  the  butler,  opened  the  door. 

"Is  Mrs.  Woodbridge  in?"  asked  Jerry. 

"No,  sir,"  said  Hartley.  "She  's  out  in  the  mo- 
tor. Any  message  you  wish  to  leave,  sir?" 

Jerry  hesitated  a  moment. 

"No,"  he  said.     "Is  Mr.  Budd  in?" 

"Yes,  sir.     Do  you  wish  to  see  him?" 

"No,"  said  Jerry,  "not  now."  He  turned  and 
went  down  the  steps. 

The  next  morning  Jerry  left  word  with  Virginia 
that  when  Budd  came  for  his  treatment  he  wished 
to  see  him.     If  Budd  and  Preston  had  been  hav- 
ing a  set-to,  he  wanted  to  know  about  it.     Just  be- 
fore noon  the  boy  came  into  his  office.     Jerry  scru- 
tinized him  for  evidence  of  a  nervous  set-back. 
Budd's  color  was  good.     His  general  appearance 
more  normal  and  cheerful  than  any  day  yet. 
"Weight  still  going  up?"  Jerry  asked. 
Budd  grinned  and  nodded. 


150  THE  BOOMERANG 

"The  fat  man's  class  for  me,"  he  answered. 

"Any  more  letters?" 

Budd  grew  serious  and  shook  his  head. 

"I  guess  you  've  fixed  that,"  he  said. 

"Don't  worry  about  it,"  said  Jerry,  reassuringly. 
"You  '11  come  out  all  right.  What  I  wanted  to  ask 
you  about  was  this.  If  it 's  not  indelicate,  what 
were  you  doing  with  Preston  yesterday?" 

"Preston?"  Budd  repeated. 

"Apparently  he  favored  you  with  an  afternoon 
call,"  said  Jerry.  "I  thought  he  might  have 
dropped  in  to  leave  you  a  box  of  rat  poison  or  an 
invitation  to  a  duel." 

A  look  of  comprehension  came  into  the  boy's 
face,  and  he  smiled  shrewdly. 

"No,"  he  answered.  "Nothing  doing  with  me. 
I  heard  he  called,  though." 

"Friend  of  your  mother's?" 

Budd  shook  his  head. 

"No;  he  was  calling  on  Virginia." 

"On  Virginia?"  A  sudden  blankness  came  over 
Jerry's  face.  "Oh,  I  see,"  he  said,  although  he 
did  n't  see  at  all.  He  changed  the  subject  and  be- 
gan to  ask  Budd  what  he  thought  of  the  chances  of 
the  Giants  in  the  World  Series.  When  the  boy 
had  gone,  he  rose  and  paced  the  length  of  the  room 
and  back. 


THE  BOOMERANG  151 

Why  in  the  name  of  heaven  was  Preston  De 
Witt  calling  on  Virginia?  Where  had  he  met 
her?  Had  some  of  this  talk  that  his  father  had 
picked  up  come  to  Preston?  Did  he  think  he  could 
play  with  her? 

Jerry  felt  the  blood  throbbing  in  his  temples. 
His  hands  clenched.  At  that  moment  if  Preston 
De  Witt  had  entered  the  office  convicted  of  the  un- 
amiable  intentions  that  Jerry  attributed  to  him, 
in  all  likelihood  he  would  have  departed  in  an  am- 
bulance. 

As  Jerry  realized  the  absurdity  of  these  mental 
dramatics,  his  tension  relaxed,  and  he  laughed.  It 
was  unlikely  that  Preston  had  heard  anything  about 
Virginia.  The  probability  was  rather  the  reverse, 
since  Preston  enjoyed  the  reputation  of  being  one 
of  those  young  men  who  always  fall  in  love  with 
ladies  who  happen  to  be  rich  and  socially  conspic- 
uous. 

The  chances  were  that  Mrs.  Woodbridge  had 
taken  Virginia  to  the  country  club,  Preston  had 
been  presented  to  her  and  had  supposed  that  she 
was  visiting  Mrs.  Woodbridge.  When  he  found 
out  the  true  situation  he  would  call  no  more,  which 
would  be  just  as  well.  Although  Jerry  had  not 
contemplated  Virginia  marrying  any  one,  now  that 
the  idea  had  been  suggested  to  him,  he  did  n't  want 


152  THE  BOOMERANG 

the  man  to  be  Preston.  The  best  man  in  the  world 
would  hardly  be  good  enough  for  her. 

"I  suppose  I  can  understand  a  little  how  a  father 
feels,"  he  said  to  himself.  "If  I  were  Virginia's 
father,  I  'd  certainly  wring  the  neck  of  any  little 
shrimp  like  De  Witt  who  had  tried  to  butt  in." 

Late  that  afternoon  he  found  Mrs.  Woodbridge 
at  home.  Before  he  had  a  chance  to  get  started  she 
began  about  Budd. 

"It 's  wonderful  what  you  Ve  done  for  him,"  she 
said.  "He  's  a  different  boy.  He  's  more  him- 
self than  he  's  been  in  a  year.  When  I  think  how 
our  dear  old  Doctor  Kales  and  all  the  rest  of  them 
could  n't  help  him,  and  then  realize  what  you  've 
done,  I  want  to  tell  everybody." 

"You  'd  better  not  hire  any  halls,"  said  Jerry. 
"You  've  sent  me  enough  patients  already.  I  don't 
want  to  ruin  my  health." 

"And  you  were  so  right  about  insisting  upon  the 
nurse,"  she  went  on.  "I  never  can  be  grateful 
enough  to  you  for  sending  Virginia  to  us." 

"I  want  to  speak  to  you  about  that,"  said  Jerry. 
"Of  course  I  'm  glad  she 's  been  satisfactory.  I 
knew  she  would  be,  but  I  want  you  to  remember 
that  I  recommended  her  as  a  nurse.  The  secre- 
tary and  companion  business  was — well — what 
you  might  call  another  order.  You  understand?" 


•« 


THE  BOOMERANG  153 

"I  understand  that  we  did  n't  want  people  to 
know  that  Budd  was  ill,"  said  Mrs.  Woodbridge, 
but  I  don't  quite  see  what  you're  driving  at. 
Virginia  has  been  as  satisfactory  as  a  secretary  as 
she  has  been  as  a  nurse." 

"What  I  mean  is  this,"  said  Jerry,  bluntly.  "As 
a  nurse  I  could  speak  for  her.  But  when  you  in- 
troduce her  socially  you  must  do  that  on  your  own 
responsibility.  I  don't  know  anything  about  her 
family.  I  've  never  asked  her  about  it,  and  she 's 
never  chosen  to  tell  me." 

"Do  you  suspect  that  socially  she's  not 
quite — "  She  paused,  and  an  amused  look 
flashed  in  her  eyes. 

"I  do  not,"  said  Jerry,  hotly.  "I  think  that  so- 
cially and  every  other  way  she  's  0.  K.,  but  I  'm 
just  telling  you  that  I  don't  know  anything  about 
her  people.  You  women  are  so  fussy  about  such 
things  that  I  want  to  have  a  clear  understanding. 
That 's  all — what  lawyers  call  getting  it  on  the 
record." 

Mrs.  Woodbridge  gazed  at  him  gravely,  but  her 
eyes  danced. 

"I  think  you  've  behaved  with  great  caution, 
Gerald.  However,  as  Budd  would  say,  I  'm 
ready  to  take  a  chance  on  Virginia.  I  can't  tell 
you  about  it  yet,  and  you  mustn't  mention  my 


154  THE  BOOMERANG 

referring  to  it,  but  the  fact  is  I  think  we  're  going 
to  have  a  little  surprise  for  you." 

"That  concerns  Miss  Xelva?" 

Mrs.  Woodbridge  nodded. 

"You  're  not  going  to  tell  me  she 's  going  to 
marry  Budd?"  Jerry  blurted  out. 

"I  'm  afraid  not  that,"  she  answered,  laughing. 
"I  wish  it  were  that." 

Jerry  looked  at  her  sharply. 

"It  doesn't  concern  that  fellow  De  Witt?"  he 
demanded. 

It  was  Mrs.  Woodbridge  who  showed  surprise 
now. 

"Whatever  put  that  in  your  head?"  she  asked 
evasively. 

"Well,  he  's  been  coming  here  to  see  her,  and  I 
don't  think  he  's  the  kind  of  young  man  that  ought 
to  be  encouraged." 

Mrs.  Woodbridge  laughed  uproariously. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Gerald?  You 
come  and  warn  me  against  the  child,  and  now  you 
act  as  if  you  were  her  father,  mother,  and  maiden 
aunt." 

"Simply  this,"  said  Jerry:  "she 's  my  office  as- 
sistant, and  in  a  way  I  'm  responsible  for  her.  I 
idon't  think  De  Witt  is  the  kind  of  man  that  I  want 
to  see  her  playing  around  with." 


THE  BOOMERANG  155 

"You  've  certainly  made  that  quite  plain,"  said 
Mrs.  Woodbridge.  "Now  I  '11  give  you  a  piece  of 
advice.  Virginia  is  capable  of  managing  her  own 
affairs,  and  if  she  were  n't,  I  'm  here  and  ready  to 
help  her.  As  for  Preston  De  Witt,"  she  added,  "I 
think  he  's  a  very  intelligent  young  man,  and  if  he 
comes  here  to  see  Virginia,  he  comes  with  my  en- 
tire approval."  She  smiled  on  Jerry  in  a  motherly 
fashion,  but  there  was  a  mischievous  light  in  her 
eyes  that  made  Jerry  wonder. 

"There's  something  fishy  about  all  this,"  he 
said.  "What  is  it?" 

"You  '11  know  nothing  more  than  I  've  told  you," 
she  answered.  And  there  the  conversation  ended 
as  far  as  Virginia  was  concerned. 

As  Jerry  was  going,  she  stopped  him  with  a  ques- 
tion. 

"Budd's  birthday  is  next  Tuesday.  Don't  you 
think  I  could  have  a  little  party  for  him?" 

"Offhand,  I  should  say  no,"  Jerry  answered. 
"But  I'll  think  about  it.  I'll  let  you  know." 
He  took  his  hat  and  departed. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ON  the  way  home  Jerry  did  some  thinking  and 
arrived  at  several  conclusions.  In  the  first 
place,  Mrs.  Woodbridge  must  in  some  way  have 
satisfied  herself  as  to  Virginia's  status.  In  all 
probability  the  girl  had  told  her  where  she  came 
from  and  had  talked  with  her  about  her  family 
and  past  life.  In  the  second  place,  whether  Pres- 
ton De  Witt  or  any  other  young  man  was  interested 
in  her  was  none  of  his  business.  She  was  his 
office  attendant  and  nothing  else.  He  had  rather 
played  the  fool  in  allowing  himself  to  become 
worked  up  about  it.  In  sober  after  thought  he  was 
perplexed  that  he  should  have  done  so.  Possibly 
he  was  tired,  and  his  point  of  view  a  little  out  of 
focus. 

The  possibility  of  Preston's  having  become  in- 
terested in  Virginia  raised  several  entertaining 
possibilities  regarding  Grace.  If  Preston  was 
really  giving  Virginia  "a  rush,"  it  meant  that  Grace 
was  holding  him  at  arm's-length,  and  that  was  the 
important  aspect  of  the  matter  as  it  concerned 
Budd.  It  occurred  to  him  that  this  might  be  the 

156 


THE  BOOMERANG  157 

time  to  send  Budd  out  to  reconnoiter  the  enemy's 
defenses  and  see  how  things  stood,  also  to  test  the 
boy's  progress  in  the  noble  art  of  taking  care  of 
himself.  The  difficulty,  however,  was  in  arrang- 
ing the  meeting  so  that  in  case  Budd  fared  badly 
he  could  intervene  before  any  serious  mischief  was 
done. 

Suddenly  an  idea  came  to  him,  inspired  by  Mrs. 
Woodbridge's  request  for  a  birthday  party.  Budd 
should  have  his  party.  It  would  be  arranged  as  a 
surprise.  Grace  would  be  there,  and  there  would 
be  certain  other  surprise  features  stage-managed  by 
himself,  and  he  would  be  on  hand  himself  to  ob- 
serve the  course  of  events  and  ready  in  case  of 
need  to  bring  first  aid  to  the  injured.  As  the  plan 
took  shape  he  chuckled.  The  politics  of  juvenile 
love  amused  him. 

That  evening  he  took  Marion  into  his  confidence 
as  far  as  was  needful  to  insure  the  presence  of 
Grace.  He  told  her  merely  that  Budd  had  been 
ill  and  under  treatment  for  nearly  a  month,  and 
now  he  was  planning  to  celebrate  his  recovery  by  a 
little  surprise  party  on  the  evening  of  his  birth- 
day. Marion  approved  of  the  idea  and  began  to 
make  out  a  list  of  people.  The  third  name  that 
she  wrote  down  was  Grace's. 

"Yes,  we  must  have  her,"  Jerry  observed  casu- 


158  THE  BOOMERANG 

ally,  "and  we  must  make  sure  that  everybody  turns 
up.  A  surprise  party  where  half  the  people  back 
out  at  the  last  minute  is  rather  ghastly." 

"You  can  leave  that  to  me,"  said  Marion.  "I  '11 
produce  everybody  that  I  ask." 

"And  especially  Grace,"  he  put  in.  "I  want  to 
get  a  little  fun  out  of  this  party  myself." 

Marion  eyed  him  with  motherly  indulgence. 

"You  don't  seem  to  have  been  cutting  much  ice 
lately  in  that  direction." 

"Been  too  busy,"  Jerry  answered.  "But  that  re- 
minds me,  there  's  no  need  of  having  Preston.  Let 
me  have  a  free  field  for  once." 

"All  right,"  she  answered;  "we'll  suppress 
Preston.  I  don't  think  he  and  Budd  have  ever  been 
very  intimate." 

"Good,"  said  Jerry.  "You  see  about  the  music, 
and  I  '11  arrange  with  Mrs.  Wood  bridge  about 
supper." 

After  some  thought  on  the  matter  Jerry  called 
Virginia  into  consultation.  He  explained  the  pro- 
posed party  and  asked  her  what  she  thought  the 
effect  of  Grace's  presence  would  be  on  Budd. 
Virginia  weighed  the  question. 

"You  know  how  her  letters  have  upset  him,"  she 
said.  "Don't  you  think  that  seeing  her  like  that 
in  his  own  house  will  set  him  back?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  159 

Jerry  grinned. 

"I  think  it's  going  to  set  him  back  for  life. 
That 's  what  I  'm  counting  on,  anyway.  If  he  can't 
be  happy  without  her,  the  next  best  thing  is  to 
see  if  he  can  be  happy  with  her." 

The  girl  looked  surprised. 

"But  I  thought  she  was  in  love  with  Mr.  De 
Witt." 

Jerry  glanced  at  her  sharply.  Was  she  putting 
something  over  on  him?  Was  that  innocent, 
honest  gaze  only  a  mask,  after  all?  On  this 
subject  Jerry  was  inclined  to  hold  all  ladies  sus- 
pect. 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  he  said.  "I  think  they  have 
both  been  playing.  In  fact  I  think  Preston  is  busy 
on  another  job."  He  watched  for  some  telltale 
deepening  of  her  color,  but  nothing  happened.  If 
she  had  anything  to  conceal,  she  did  it  master- 
fully. 

"But  you  surely  don't  believe  that  Miss  Tyler 
cares  for  Mr.  Woodbridge?"  she  said  with  a  note 
of  incredulity. 

"I  don't  believe  she  thinks  she  does  now,"  he 
answered,  "but  I  believe  she  used  to,  and  if  she 
did  once,  she  can  be  made  to  again." 

"Made  to?"  Virginia  repeated. 

"Yes,  made  to." 


160  THE  BOOMERANG 

Virginia's  lip  curled. 

"If  she  's  that  kind  of  girl,  I  think  he  's  better 
off  without  her." 

"She  's  not  'that  kind  of  girl.'  She  's  an  awfully 
nice  girl.  Oh,  yes,  she  is." 

"Then  how  could  she  have  treated  him  so?" 
Virginia  demanded. 

"Don't  blame  her,"  said  Jerry.  "It  was  n't  her 
fault." 

"It  certainly  was  n't  his,"  she  retorted. 

"Yes;  the  fault  was  Budd's." 

"Oh,  you  can't  mean  that!"  she  cried.  "His 
devotion  to  that  girl  is  perfectly  beautiful." 

"Yes,  and  see  where  it 's  landed  him!  So 
you  've  got  these  highfalutin  notions,  too?" 

She  made  no  denial,  and  he  went  on: 

"My  dear  child,  that  kind  of  thing  is  very  ro- 
mantic and  beautiful  in  books,  but  it 's  pretty  dan- 
gerous stuff  to  tie  up  to.  Some  day  you  '11  be  un- 
lucky enough  to  fall  in  love  yourself." 

Virginia  smiled. 

"You  don't  think  that 's  possible,  I  suppose." 

"It  might  be." 

"Then  you  ought  to  know  the  truth  about  it." 

"I  'd  like  to,"  she  answered. 

"Then  I  '11  tell  you.  The  truth  is  that  it 's  all 
a  game!9 


THE  BOOMERANG  161 

She  uttered  a  protest. 

"Yes;  that's  what  it  is — a  mean,  selfish,  rotten 
game." 

She  burst  out  laughing. 

"You  're  making  fun  of  me.  It 's  ridiculous  to 
talk  that  way!" 

"It 's  the  fact,"  he  answered.  "And  as  soon  as 
you  fall  in  love,  the  game  begins,  and  you  've  got 
to  play  it  whether  you  want  to  or  not.  Most  people 
play  it  like  Budd,  without  knowing  the  rules,  and 
get  the  worst  of  it.  Now  why  not  be  sensible  and 
play  it  with  your  eyes  open?" 

"I  don't  think  I  'd  care  to  play  it  at  all,"  she 
answered  gravely. 

"Stuff!"  he  cried.  "If  you  were  in  love, 
would  n't  you  like  to  know  how  to  win?  Would  n't 
you  want  to  bring  your  victim  to  your  feet — make 
him  adore  you,  believe  you  the  most  charming 
and  beautiful  and  wonderful  woman  in  the  world, 
make  him  hope  for  nothing,  think  of  nothing, 
dream  of  nothing,  but  you?" 

"Do  you  think  you  can  do  that  by  a  set  of  rules?" 
she  asked. 

"Sure,"  he  answered.     "I  '11  guarantee  it." 

"And  the  rules?" 

"The  rules  are  to  avoid  all  the  blunders  Budd 
has  made." 


162  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  can't  see  that  Budd  has  made  any  blunders," 
she  answered  defiantly. 

He  looked  at  her  hopelessly. 

"He  's  done  nothing  else.  In  the  first  place,  he 
showed  her  that  he  loved  her,  honorably,  devotedly, 
exclusively.  Note  exclusively!  That  alone  was 
enough  to  queer  him." 

"You  mean  he  should  n't  have  told  her?" 

"No;  he  should  have  told  her  whenever  he  got 
the  chance.  His  trouble  was  that  he  probably 
did  n't  tell  her  at  all,  but  let  her  find  it  out  from 
the  way  he  acted.  What  he  should  have  done  was 
to  tell  her  early  and  often,  but  act  so  that  she  was 
never  quite  sure  that  he  meant  it." 

Virginia  gave  him  a  shocked  look  from  her  mild 
eyes,  but  Jerry  kept  on. 

"In  the  second  place,  he  was  too  good  to  her. 
He  paid  her  too  much  attention,  was  always  hang- 
ing about  till  his  visits  became  about  as  exciting  as 
the  milkman's.  One  of  the  principal  rules  of  the 
game  is  judicious  absence.  Instead,  he  was  always 
hanging  around.  She  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course 
and  naturally  enough  began  to  take  notice  else- 
where to  bring  a  little  sunshine  into  life.  Then 
along  came  jealousy.  You  can't  keep  jealousy  out 
of  this  love  stuff,  but  it 's  rare  that  both  parties 
have  it,  and  if  you  know  how,  you  can  manage  it 


THE  BOOMERANG  163 

so  that  you  're  not  the  victim.  The  most  important 
of  all  the  rules  is  to  keep  the  other  fellow  jealous 
and  avoid  it  yourself.  If  you  don't,  you  end  up 
like  Budd — jealousy,  desperation,  despair,  doc- 
tor." 

"Well,  I  can't  say  that  I  think  it's  a  very  nice 
game,"  said  Virginia. 

"I  told  you  that,"  Jerry  answered.  "But  it's 
justified  by  the  circumstances,  because  if  you  fall 
in  love  with  a  man  and  let  him  see  your  devotion 
is  so  great  you  can't  think  of  anything  else,  he  '11 
begin  to  care  less  and  less  about  you.  It 's  curi- 
ous, but  it 's  so." 

A  curious  shadow,  half  of  pain,  half  of  wonder, 
crossed  Virginia's  face. 

"It 's  hard  to  believe  that,"  she  said  slowly. 
"I  would  n't  want  to  believe  it." 

"What  you  want  has  n't  anything  to  do  with  it," 
said  Jerry,  grimly.  "It 's  what  always  happens, 
and  if  I  should  ever  fall  in  love,  you  can  bet  I  'm 
going  to  play  the  game." 

"You?"  said  the  girl. 

"To  the  limit,"  he  answered.  "It 's  one's  duty 
as  a  sane  human  being.  Why,  there  are  thou- 
sands of  poor  creatures  all  over  the  world  whose 
lives  have  been  ruined  just  because  they  loved  too 
much  and  did  n't  know  it  was  all  a  game.  And 


164  THE  BOOMERANG 

that 's  Budd's  danger.  He  's  a  goner  unless  we 
can  save  him.  And  that 's  what  I  wanted  to  speak 
to  you  about.  As  usual,  I  'm  depending  on  you 
to  help  me.  Will  you?" 

"Of  course,"  she  answered;  "but  what  do  you 
want  me  to  do?" 

"I  want  you  to  play  the  game.  I  want  you  to 
pretend  to  be  in  love." 

"You  want  Miss  Tyler  to  think  that  I  'm  in  love 
with  Mr.  Woodbridge?" 

"Exactly.  It's  the  trump-card  we'll  have  to 
play  if  things  don't  go  well.  I  want  Grace  Tyler 
to  think  that  you  and  Budd  are  crazy  about  each 
other." 

Virginia  laughed. 

"One  might  be  justified  in  doing  a  good  deal  to 
help  the  unfortunate,  but  you  could  never  get  Mr. 
Woodbridge  to  do  his  part." 

"I  'm  not  going  to  try.  All  I  want  is  to  have 
Miss  Tyler  see  you  and  Budd  together,  laughing 
and  jolly,  on  pleasant,  friendly  terms,  and  then 
to  have  you  make  her  feel  that  you  're  exercising 
proprietary  rights.  Do  you  think  you  can?" 

Virginia  laughed  again. 

"I  might  make  her  feel  that  I  was  exercising 
proprietary  rights,"  she  answered,  "but  do  you 


THE  BOOMERANG  165 

think  you  could  make  Mr.  Woodbridge  laugh  and 
be  jolly  if  she  was  around?" 

"I  '11  attend  to  that.  All  I  'm  counting  on  you 
for  is  the  female  ownership  part.  You  're  really 
too  good  for  that  kind  of  thing,  but  it  must  be  in 
the  blood,  because,  after  all,  you  're  a  woman. 
And  of  course  you  must  n't  appear  in  a  nurse's  uni- 
form," he  added.  "I  '11  fix  that  with  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge.  I  want  you  to  doll  up.  I  want  you  to  be 
as  pretty  as  you  can." 

The  girl  colored  and  smiled. 

"I  '11  do  my  best,"  she  said,  "but  you  must  n't 
expect  very  much." 

Jerry  looked  at  her  keenly. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  he  said.  "It  looks 
to  me  as  though  you  ought  to  do  pretty  well  and 
not  have  to  break  your  neck  trying." 

Virginia  dropped  her  eyes  while  the  flush  deep- 
ened. 

"So  that 's  all  arranged,"  he  went  on.  "Tues- 
day night  we  '11  have  a  show-down  and  see  what 
we  can  do.  The  success  of  our  anti-jealousy 
serum  depends  on  it.  And  remember,"  he  added 
in  a  gentler  tone,  "if  we  pull  it  off,  the  credit  will 
all  be  yours.  When  I  think  of  it,  the  credit  for 
everything  this  office  has  done  in  the  past  month 


166  THE  BOOMERANG 

belongs  to  you.  When  you  do  fall  in  love  and 
marry  and  leave  me,  I  want  you  to  be  very  happy." 

"I  shall  always  stay  here  as  long  as  you  '11  let 
me,"  she  answered. 

"No,  you  won't,"  he  answered  with  a  touch  of 
bitterness.  "You  '11  go,  but  if  he  is  n't  worthy  of 
you,  he  '11  have  to  settle  with  me.  You  've  put  me 
under  very  deep  obligations,  Virginia,  and  I  want 
you  to  know  that  I  know  it."  It  was  the  first  time 
that  he  had  ever  spoken  to  her  by  her  first  name. 
He  held  out  his  hand.  She  let  hers  rest  in  it  for  a 
moment  and  then,  without  meeting  his  eyes,  turned 
and  left  the  room. 

"No  Preston  De  Witt  for  that  girl,"  he  muttered. 
"There  's  got  to  be  a  real  man  on  the  job  or  I  '11 
have  something  to  say  about  it." 


PART  IV 


CHAPTER  XIII 

AT  nine-thirty  Tuesday  evening  Budd's  birth- 
day appeared  from  every  point  of  view  to 
have  been  a  success.  After  his  usual  daily  regime 
there  had  been  a  birthday  dinner  with  a  lighted 
cake  out  of  which  Virginia  had  drawn  the  thimble, 
his  mother  the  ring,  and  Budd  the  money.  The 
appropriateness  of  Fate  in  making  these  allotments 
was  sustained  in  Budd's  case  by  the  pleasant  check 
that  a  doting  mother  had  bestowed  upon  him  earlier 
in  the  day.  A  month  of  careful  living  and  rigor- 
ous exercise  had  put  him  in  the  pink  of  condition 
physically,  and  he  seemed  to  be  winning  in  his 
efforts  to  banish  Grace  from  his  thoughts.  Alto- 
gether it  was  all  very  jolly  and  delightful  at  the 
Woodbridges'  that  evening,  and  as  is  unusual  with 
surprise  parties,  Budd  was  entirely  unsuspecting 
of  the  entertainment  that  was  about  to  burst  upon 
him. 

After  dinner  the  little  family  gathered  in  the 
library  for  its  usual  evening  program,  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge  embroidering,  Budd  and  Virginia  playing 
piquet.  The  cards  seemed  to  be  running  amaz- 

169 


170  THE  BOOMERANG 

ingly  for  Budd.  As  they  played  the  last  hand, 
Virginia  laughed  in  mock  desperation  and  began 
to  add  up  the  score. 

"This  is  the  seventh  time  in  succession  that 
you  've  beaten  me,  and  I  know  I  play  the  better 
game." 

The  boy  looked  at  her  quizzically. 

"You  know,  lucky  at  cards — " 

She  raised  a  finger  warningly. 

"Now!  now!" 

"Oh,  I  'm  all  right,"  he  answered  in  an  under- 
tone. "I  was  thinking  how  lucky  you  must  be 
at—" 

She  colored  slightly. 

"You  'd  better  think  about  something  else,"  she 
said  lightly. 

Mrs.  Woodbridge  raised  her  eyebrows,  but  went 
on  with  her  needlework,  giving  no  other  sign  that 
she  had  overheard. 

Budd  smiled,  yawned,  and  rose  from  his  chair. 

"I  must  have  my  go  at  the  old  punching-bag," 
he  observed.  "I  can't  believe  this  is  my  last  night 
of  training.  I  think  I'm  going  to  miss  it. 
Mother,"  he  went  on,  "how  would  you  propose 
that  your  little  son  should  break  training — wine, 
woman,  or  song?" 

Mrs.  Woodbridge  looked  at  him  proudly. 


THE  BOOMERANG  171 

"I  hope  not  by  smoking  cigarettes  again,"  she 
answered.  "You  're  so  splendidly  well  that  I  want 
you  to  keep  so." 

Budd  shook  his  head  doubtfully. 

"It 's  bad  for  a  man  to  have  as  much  health  as 
I  have.  It 's  like  not  spending  your  money.  I  've 
got  to  do  something  wicked." 

The  grandfather's  clock  that  struck  the  quarters 
began  to  chime,  indicating  that  it  was  a  quarter 
past  nine.  Mrs.  Woodbridge  and  Virginia  ex- 
changed glances. 

"Mr.  Budd,"  said  the  latter,  "it 's  time  for  you 
to  punch  the  bag.  You  're  still  under  my  orders." 

Budd  acknowledged  her  authority  with  an  ex- 
aggerated bow  and  lounged  out  of  the  room.  As 
they  heard  him  whistling  on  his  way  up-stairs  the 
two  women  rose. 

"You  'd  better  get  dressed,  Virgie,"  said  Mrs. 
Woodbridge.  "I  '11  get  Hartley  and  the  gardener 
to  get  the  rug  up  in  the  drawing-room  and  move  the 
furniture."  She  went  to  the  electric  button  and 
pressed  it. 

A  moment  later  the  butler  appeared  and  fol- 
lowed Mrs.  Woodbridge  toward  the  drawing-room. 
As  Virginia  passed  out  into  the  hall  on  her  way  up- 
stairs, she  caught  sight  of  an  envelop  standing  on 
edge  against  the  wall  under  the  hall  table  where 


172  THE  BOOMERANG 

letters  were  usually  placed.  She  rescued  it  and 
saw  that  it  was  addressed  to  Budd  and  unopened. 
It  had  evidently  slipped  down  behind  the  table, 
blown  by  a  draft  of  air  or  crowded  off  by  the  news- 
papers. The  note  had  obviously  been  delivered 
by  hand,  as  it  bore  no  stamp.  How  long  it  had 
lain  on  the  floor  was  a  question.  She  hesitated  a 
moment,  then  turned  into  the  drawing-room. 

"Hartley,"  she  said,  "I  've  just  found  this  note 
for  Mr.  Budd  on  the  floor  under  the  table.  Have 
you  any  idea  when  it  was  delivered?" 

The  man  looked  at  it  in  some  concern. 

"Why,  that  came  this  morning,  Miss  Xelva,"  he 
answered,  "while  he  was  out  for  his  walk.  I  laid 
it  on  the  table  for  him.  I  'm  very  sorry." 

"It's  nobody's  fault,"  she  answered.  "I'll 
take  it  up  to  him  in  the  gymnasium.  She  went  up 
to  the  third  story.  As  she  entered,  the  bag-puncher 
suspended  his  exertions. 

"Do  you  want  to  see  a  little  exhibition?"  he 
asked,  panting. 

"Of  course,"  she  answered  gaily ;  "but  here  's  a 
note  that  came  for  you  this  morning  and  slipped 
down  behind  the  table.  I  thought  it  might  be 
something  important." 

"Thanks,"  he  said  and  came  over  and  took  it. 


THE  BOOMERANG  173 

As  he  glanced  at  the  handwriting,  a  change  came 
over  his  face. 

"It 's  from — "  she  began. 

He  nodded. 

"Perhaps  I  ought  n't  to  have  given  it  to  you,"  she 
said  doubtfully. 

"What  nonsense!"  he  exclaimed  and  tore  it  open. 
Slowly  he  produced  a  card  with  a  verse  printed  on 
it,  signed  in  ink  with  the  initials  G.  T. 

"A  birthday  card?"  said  Virginia. 

Budd  nodded  and  began  to  read: 

"May  joy  and  love 
In  your  life  ne'er  cease, 
But  grow  and  grow 
As  your  years  increase." 

"Joy  and  love,"  he  repeated,  and  stood  staring 
at  the  bit  of  cardboard  like  a  creature  spellbound. 

Virginia  stretched  out  her  hand. 

"You  'd  better  let  me  take  that,"  she  said  gently. 

He  made  no  opposition,  and  she  took  the  card. 

"Now  let 's  talk  of  something  else,"  she  went 
on.  "Suppose  we  have  the  exhibition  with  the 
bag." 

He  seemed  not  to  hear  her. 

"If  I  only  could  be  sorry  that  she  's  sent  it,"  he 


174  THE  BOOMERANG 

murmured  as  if  thinking  aloud.     "But  1 9m  not." 

"It's  only  a  printed  birthday  card,"  she  said. 
"It  does  n't  amount  to  anything." 

He  sighed  wearily. 

"That 's  right.  Still,  it  was  awfully  sweet  of  her 
when  you  think  how  I  've  treated  her.  I  ought  to 
acknowledge  it,  hadn't  I?" 

"The  doctor  will  tell  you  about  that,"  said  Vir- 
ginia, "just  as  he  always  does." 

"That 's  what  I  'm  afraid  of." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Don't  you  know  the  replies  he  made  me  send 
to  the  two  letters  she  wrote  me?" 

"No ;  you  never  showed  them  to  me." 

Budd  went  to  his  coat,  which  was  hanging  on  the 
back  of  a  chair,  and  drew  two  worn  envelops 
from  the  breast  pocket. 

"Here,"  he  said. 

As  Virginia  read  them,  he  gave  a  summary  of 
the  answers  that  Jerry  had  dictated. 

"It  was  pretty  hard,"  she  said  sympathetically, 
"but  I  'm  sure  the  doctor  was  right." 

"I  don't  see  why.  I  don't  see  what  good  it  did 
to  write  that  kind  of  stuff  to  her.  Every  time  I 
hear  from  her  it  brings  it  all  back  again."  He 
put  the  birthday  card  with  the  letters,  replaced 
them  in  his  pocket,  and  slipped  on  the  coat. 


'Joy  and  love,"  he  repeated 


THE  BOOMERANG  175 

Virginia  watched  him  with  a  look  of  anxiety. 

"You  must  try  not  to  think  about  it,"  she  said. 

"Not  think  about  it?"  he  repeated.  He  gazed 
at  her  bitterly.  "I  guess  you  don't  know  what 
love  is,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do,"  she  answered  steadily.  "Per- 
haps better  than  you  do." 

He  gave  her  a  quick,  wondering  look. 

"Well,  if  you  do,"  he  said,  "I  'm  sorry  for  you. 
But  I  'm  through.  This  serum  and  exercise  busi- 
ness can't  cure  it.  You  think  you  're  getting  bet- 
ter, and  then  something  happens  like  this  birthday 
card,  and  it 's  all  off  again.  There  's  only  one 
thing  to  do." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Clear  out,  run  away  from  it,  and  I  'm  going 
to  do  it.  The  month  that  I  promised  to  take  Dr. 
Sumner's  treatment  is  up  to-morrow.  The  day 
after  I  'm  off." 

"But  if  you  really  love,"  she  said  simply,  "could 
you  go  away  from  the  person  you  care  for?" 

"Is  there  anything  else  you  can  do  when  there  's 
no  hope  of  getting  her?" 

"There  are  lots  of  things  we  want,  but  can't  have. 
That 's  no  reason  why  we  should  run  away  from 
them.  And  real  love  most  of  all." 

"Would  you  feel  that  way  if  you  were  in  love 


176  THE  BOOMERANG 

with  a  man  who  was  n't  in  love  with  you?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"I  think  so,"  she  answered  steadily.  "In  fact 
I  know  I  should." 

"I  can't  see  it,"  said  the  boy. 

"Why,  just  to  be  near  the  person  you  care  for, 
to  hear  his  voice,  to  know  he  's  near,  in  the  same 
town  with  me,  would  give  me  a  feeling  of  peace 
and  happiness — something  you  can't  describe,  like 
birds  singing  inside  your  heart.  Can't  you  under- 
stand that?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"You  're  beyond  me.  I  can't  feel  as  if  any 
birds  were  singing  inside  me.  It 's  a  different 
kind  of  feeling  that  I  've  got.  Have  you  ever 
heard  of  people  dying  of  thirst — how  they  beg  for 
water  and  go  mad  thinking  about  it,  how  they 
imagine  they  see  it  just  beyond  their  reach  and 
stretch  out  their  arms  towards  it  and  then  find  it 
is  n't  there?  Well,  that 's  the  way  it  takes  me." 

"But  it  is  there,"  she  answered.  "Love  is  a  real 
thing.  It 's  in  all." 

"Stop!"  he  said  impatiently.  "Suppose  you 
were  dying  of  thirst.  What  would  you  think  if 
some  one  came  to  you  with  real  water — fresh,  pure 
water — and  said,  'Now  you  must  n't  drink  this,  but 
just  to  have  it  near  you  ought  to  satisfy  you, 


THE  BOOMERANG  177 

ought  to  give  you  a  feeling  like  birds  singing.' ' 

"You  should  n't  be  thirsty,"  she  answered. 
"Love  isn't  wanting.  It's  giving;  it's  feeling; 
it 's  being  ready  to  give  everything,  not  demand- 
ing everything." 

He  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"That 's  all  beyond  me.  All  I  know  is  that  I  'in 
thirsty,  and  the  water  is  out  of  reach." 

She  let  her  hand  rest  gently  on  his  shoulder. 

"Perhaps  it  is  n't  out  of  reach,"  she  suggested. 

"Don't  pull  the  hope  stuff  on  me,"  he  began. 
"I  know  when  I  'm  beaten.  I  'm  off  on  Thurs- 
day." 

She  was  framing  an  answer,  when  the  door 
opened,  and  Jerry  came  in.  He  took  one  look  at 
Budd,  then  glanced  at  Virginia. 

"What 's  this,"  he  demanded,  "a  funeral  or  a 
bag-punching  contest?  What 's  happened?" 

"Mr.  Woodbridge  and  I  have  been  having  a  little 
talk,"  Virginia  began. 

"I  just  got  this,"  said  Budd.  He  fished  the 
packet  of  letters  from  his  pocket  and  handed  the 
birthday  card  to  Jerry. 

"Pretty,  is  n't  it?"  said  Jerry,  with  his  eyes  on 
the  worn  letters.  "Those  come  with  it?" 

"No,"  said  Budd.  "Those  are  the  letters  that 
came  before.  You  've  seen  them." 


178  THE  BOOMERANG 

"Better  give  'em  to  me,"  Jerry  said  quietly.  "I 
was  a  fool  to  let  you  keep  them."  He  took  the 
letters  and  the  card,  tore  them  across,  and  looked 
around  the  room  as  if  for  a  fireplace.  Finding 
none,  he  stuffed  the  pieces  into  his  pocket.  Then 
he  gazed  searchingly  at  Budd.  The  boy  dropped 
his  eyes. 

"What  shall  I  do  about  the  card?"  he  asked  in 
a  hollow  voice. 

"Nothing  just  now,"  said  Jerry.  "Get  into  your 
evening  clothes.  Quick!" 

"Evening  clothes?"  repeated  Budd. 

"Yes.  You  and  I  are  going  to  have  a  little  time 
to-night.  How  long  will  it  take  you  to  dress?" 

"Ten  minutes." 

"Make  it  nine  and  a  half.  I  want  to  speak 
to  Miss  Xelva." 

"Are  we  going  out?"  Budd  asked  as  he  reached 
the  door. 

"I  '11  explain  about  that  later,"  Jerry  answered. 
"Hustle!" 

Budd  disappeared,  and  Jerry  turned  to  Virginia. 

"Has  he  been  that  way  long?" 

"Since  he  got  the  birthday  card  a  few  minutes 
ago.  It  seemed  to  bring  on  a  relapse." 

"It's  too  bad!     I  wanted  to  have  him  in  good 


THE  BOOMERANG  179 

shape  to-night,"  Jerry  said  regretfully.  "What 
are  we  going  to  do  about  it?" 

"Perhaps  I  ought  n't  to  have  given  it  to  him," 
said  Virginia.  "But  of  course  I  did  n't  know  what 
it  was  till  he  opened  it.  I  'm  sorry." 

"It  was  n't  your  fault,"  he  answered.  He 
looked  at  his  watch.  "The  milk  is  spilled,  and 
there  's  no  time  to  cry  about  it.  I  '11  go  down  and 
sit  with  him  while  he  's  dressing.  Perhaps  I  can 
throw  a  little  joy  into  him.  But  you  'd  better  get 
dressed  yourself.  Marion  and  some  of  the  people 
are  down-stairs.  You  remember  what  you  prom- 
ised to  do?" 

Virginia  nodded. 

"You  '11  have  to  do  it  big,  because  in  the  state 
he  's  in  now  we  '11  have  to  carry  him.  I  mean 
you  '11  have  to  carry  him.  Whenever  I  get  in  a 
tight  place,  you  always  seem  to  be  made  the  goat." 

"You  know  I  am  always  glad  to  help,"  she 
said. 

"Well,  just  throw  yourself  into  high  speed  to- 
night," he  went  on.  "You  must  be  something  of 
an  actress  because  you  're  a  woman.  Play  the 
part  to  the  limit.  We  've  got  to  get  that  girl  going. 
Put  everything  on  but  the  kitchen  stove.  Make  the 
rest  of  the  bunch  look  like  last  year's  birds'  nests. 


180  THE  BOOMERANG 

Forget  this  nurse  business.  To-night  you're  the 
queen  of  the  fairies!" 

Her  eyes  danced,  and  her  color  heightened  as  he 
looked  at  her. 

"By  Jove,  I  believe  you  can  do  it!"  he  cried  im- 
pulsively. 

She  gave  him  a  glance  that  he  would  have  de- 
scribed as  the  "side  eye,"  laughed,  and  ran  out  of 
the  room.  He  heard  her  soft,  quick  footfall  on 
the  stairs  and  followed  more  deliberately. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

AT  the  door  of  Budd's  bedroom  Jerry  stopped 
for  further  thought  on  the  situation.  He 
felt  that  it  was  a  time  for  heroic  measures.  A 
housemaid  passed  through  the  hall.  He  beckoned 
to  her  and  gave  her  a  whispered  message. 

"I  '11  tell  Mr.  Hartley  at  once,"  she  answered 
and  went  on.  As  he  was  about  to  knock  at  Budd's 
door  he  heard  his  name  called  in  a  conspirator's 
whisper  and,  turning,  saw  Marion.  She  was  out  of 
breath  from  running  up-stairs. 

"Grace  has  backed  out,"  she  said  in  an  under- 
tone. "I  stopped  for  her,  and  she  wouldn't 


come." 


"What 's  the  matter?"  Jerry  asked. 

"She  said  she  had  a  headache,  but  I  don't  think 
that 's  it.  Have  you  and  she  been  fighting?" 

"Not  enough  to  speak  of,"  Jerry  answered  ab- 
sently. He  was  thinking  what  was  best  to  be  done. 
Of  course  if  Grace  did  n't  come,  there  was  no 
danger  of  Budd  relapsing.  On  the  other  hand,  if 
Grace  was  piqued  because  Budd  had  taken  no  no- 
tice of  her  birthday  card,  it  was  just  the  moment  to 

181 


182  THE  BOOMERANG 

bring  off  his  coup.  There  had  to  be  a  show-down 
some  time,  and  despite  the  risk  he  decided  on  hav- 
ing it  at  once. 

"I  '11  call  her  up,"  he  said  to  Marion.  "I  think 
there  's  a  telephone  in  the  pantry  that  I  can  use. 
You  know  the  house  better  than  I  do.  Lead  me 
down  the  back  stairs." 

A  few  moments  later  he  was  talking  with  Grace. 

"Why  this  throw-down?"  he  demanded.  "I  'm 
crushed." 

"Why,  I  wasn't  feeling  very  well,"  came  the 
answer.  "Mother  thought  I  ought  to  go  to  bed." 

"Describe  your  symptoms,  and  I  '11  prescribe  for 
you,"  said  Jerry. 

The  girl  laughed. 

"You  can't  put  this  over  on  me,"  he  went  on. 
"My  physician's  trained  ear  tells  me  you  're  per- 
fectly well.  It 's  just  low-down  meanness.  Here 
I  am  in  this  scene  of  gaiety  without  a  soul  who 
really  understands  me.  If  you  don't  come,  I  '11 
probably  do  something  desperate." 

"Really,  I  can't  come,"  she  said,  but  with  less 
determination  than  before. 

"Please,"  he  went  on  plaintively.  "I  'm  not 
exaggerating  my  troubles.  Budd  has  cut  me  out 
with  the  only  other  girl  that  looks  promising,  and 
I  'm  in  the  down-and-out  class."  He  turned  his 


THE  BOOMERANG  183 

face  away  from  the  instrument  and  chuckled  at  the 
change  in  Grace's  voice. 

"Who  is  it?"  she  asked. 

"I  don't  think  you  know  her,"  he  answered. 
"She  's  a  stranger.  But  that 's  neither  here  nor 
there.  I  'm  counting  on  you.  You  promised  to 
teach  me  to  trot,  and  this  is  my  chance." 

"Oh  I  can't,"  she  said  uncertainly.  "I  'm  not 
dressed." 

"That's  not  so,"  he  answered,  taking  a  blind 
chance.  "You  're  all  dressed  and  ready,  and  you 
won't  come  just  because  you  want  to  blight  my 
evening." 

"You  ought  to  go  into  mind-reading,"  she  said, 
laughing. 

"Now  look  here,"  he  said.  "I  '11  have  a  car  at 
the  house  for  you  in  two  minutes,  and  you  come 
right  over." 

"All  right,"  was  the  answer. 

"Now  you  're  talking  like  a  sensible  woman,"  he 
said.  "And,  remember,  I  get  the  first  waltz." 

She  answered,  "Yes,"  and  hung  up. 

Slipping  out  a  side  door,  Jerry  gave  directions 
to  the  family  chauffeur  and  hurried  back  up-stairs 
to  Budd's  room.  He  knocked  sharply,  and  at 
Budd's  answering  "Come  in"  he  entered. 

Instead  of  dressing,  Budd  was  seated  in  a  rock- 


184  THE  BOOMERANG 

ing-chair,  gazing  dully  at  the  fireplace.  He  rose 
as  he  saw  Jerry  and  began  slowly  peeling  off  his 
sweater. 

"I  thought  I  told  you  to  hustle,"  said  Jerry, 
cheerfully.  "You  're  going  on  like  a  man  who 
does  n't  know  he  is  alive." 

"What's  all  this  row  about,  anyway?"  de- 
manded Budd,  unlacing  one  of  his  gymnasium 
shoes.  "I  thought  you  did  n't  want  me  to  go  out 
in  the  evening." 

Before  Jerry  answered,  there  was  a  knock,  and 
Hartley  came  in  with  a  tray  on  which  stood  a  de- 
canter of  brandy,  two  glasses,  ice,  and  soda. 

Budd's  eyes  opened. 

"Put  it  on  the  table,"  said  Jerry.  "I  '11  pour 
it!" 

The  butler  went  out,  and  Jerry  began  to  pour. 

"I  thought  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  open  our 
little  celebration  with  a  small  drink,"  he  explained 
casually. 

"But  won't  that  interfere  with  the  treatment?" 
Budd  began  in  amazement. 

"It  won't  interfere  with  anything  now,"  said 
Jerry,  calmly.  "We  're  through  with  your  treat- 
ment." 

"You  mean  I  'm  cured?" 

"That 's  the  idea  exactly.     You  've  done  as  I  've 


THE  BOOMERANG  185 

told  you;  the  bugs  have  done  their  work.  You 
could  n't  be  jealous  again  if  you  tried,  and  all 
you  've  got  to  do  now  is  to  cheer  up  and  believe 
it." 

Budd  grinned  dolefully. 

"It  seems  funny  to  have  you  spring  this  on  me 
just  after  that  birthday  card  had  sort  of  upset  me 
again." 

"You  're  not  upset,"  said  Jerry.  "That  9s  just 
imagination.  Get  some  of  this  inside  you,  and 
you  '11  take  a  more  healthy  view  of  life."  He  held 
out  the  glass,  and  Budd  sipped  a  little  with  evident 
distaste. 

"Here  's  luck!"  said  Jerry.  "From  this  time  on 
you  can  smoke  and  drink  in  moderation,  go  back  to 
work,  have  all  the  fun  you  want,  and  see  your 
friends." 

"See  anybody  I  want?" 

"Sure." 

The  boy's  eyes  brightened. 

"Then  the  first  thing  I  'm  going  to  do  to-morrow 
is  to  see  Grace  Tyler  and  tell  her  the  truth  about 
these  letters." 

Jerry  looked  at  him  in  dismay. 

"In  heaven's  name  what  are  you  going  to  do  that 
for!"  he  exclaimed. 

"Because  I  don't  want  to  lie  to  her,"  the  boy  an- 


186  THE  BOOMERANG 

swered    resolutely.     "It 's    troubled    me    a    lot." 

"But  I  thought  you  had  given  up  hope  of  Miss 
Tyler  ever  caring  for  you  again." 

"I  have.  That 's  all  over.  But  her  opinion  of 
me  matters  just  the  same." 

"Then  you  did  n't  mean  what  you  said  about 
wishing  her  joy  and  not  wanting  to  stand  in  her 
way?" 

"Yes,  I  did  mean  it,  every  word  of  it.  Telling 
her  the  truth  does  n't  interfere  with  that." 

"Of  course  it  interferes  with  it.  You  won't  be 
acting  as  if  you  wished  her  joy  if  you  tell  her  about 
these  letters." 

"And  why  not?"  demanded  Budd. 

"Why  not?  Don't  you  know  the  reason  that  I 
made  you  answer  them  as  I  did?" 

"I  supposed  you  wanted  me  to  offend  her  so  she 
would  n't  write  to  me  again." 

"Offend  her!"  cried  Jerry.  "Don't  you  see  that 
it  was  entirely  for  her  sake?  Don't  you  see  that  if 
you  let  her  know  you  're  going  on  suffering  and 
hopeless,  loving  her  always,  she  can't  help  being 
unhappy  and  miserable?  How  do  you  think  a  nice 
girl  like  Grace  would  feel  about  it?  Can't  you 
see  that  it 's  bound  to  make  her  feel  that  she 's  the 
cause  of  wrecking  your  life?" 

"She  does  n't  think  about  that!" 


THE  BOOMERANG  187 

"Of  course  she  does.  She 's  still  worrying 
about  you.  Her  birthday  card  shows  that.  Now 
if  you  really  mean  what  you  say  and  want  to  make 
her  happy,  there  's  just  one  thing  to  do — the  big 
generous  thing,  the  noble  thing,  the  heroic  thing!" 

"What  is  that?" 

"Sacrifice  your  own  feelings  for  her!" 

"How?" 

"Show  her  that  she  hasrit  wrecked  your  life; 
let  her  see  that  your  jealousy  is  all  gone,  as  it  really 
is;  let  her  believe  that  your  mournfulness  is  gone, 
that  your  love  is  gone.  That 's  the  thing  to  do." 

Budd  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 

"Take  it  from  me,  that 's  the  thing  to  do !  Make 
her  happy  by  showing  her  that  you  are  happy." 

"I  think  I  see  what  you  mean,"  said  the  boy, 
slowly. 

"That 's  talking  sense.  I  knew  you  would. 
Now  I  '11  tell  you  something,"  Jerry  went  on. 
"The  reason  why  I  asked  you  to  get  dressed  is  that 
you  're  going  to  have  a  little  party  to-night — a 
birthday  party.  Some  of  your  guests  are  down- 
stairs now." 

"Who?"  demanded  Budd. 

"Well,  for  one,  there 's  Grace  Tyler." 

"Grace?"  the  boy  gasped.     "Here?" 

"Sure,"  said  Jerry.     "Why  not?" 


188  THE  BOOMERANG 

Budd  made  no  answer.  His  eyes  fell  upon  the 
long  drink  on  the  table.  He  moved  toward  it, 
seized  it,  and  swallowed  it. 

"There  's  nothing  to  be  frightened  about,"  said 
Jerry.  "Here  's  your  chance  to  do  the  big  thing  we 
were  talking  about.  Show  her  you  're  happy. 
Josh  her,  laugh,  be  merry!" 

Budd  shook  his  head,  panic-stricken. 

"I  could  n't.     I  don't  know  how." 

"Of  course  you  know  how.  Make  a  bluff — 
wear  a  smile — look  as  if  you  were  having  a  good 
time  even  if  it  kills  you.  Are  n't  you  willing  to  do 
that  much  for  her?" 

"I'll  try,"  said  the  boy. 

x  "That 's  better,"  said  Jerry.  "Now  this  is  the 
plot.  Slip  a  dressing-gown  over  your  dinner- 
jacket,  come  down  into  the  library,  and  be  doing 
something  when  we  come  in.  You  see,  you  've  got 
to  be  surprised.  Do  you  get  the  idea?" 

Budd  nodded  dumbly. 

"What  '11  I  be  doing?" 

Jerry's  eyes  fell  upon  a  pile  of  magazines. 

"Here,"  he  said,  picking  up  the  top  one. 
"Here's  the  'Architectural  Record.'  You're 
thinking  of  building  a  house  out  on  your  mother's 
farm,  and  you  're  studying  up  plans.  That 's  a 
good  touch,"  he  added.  "Be  so  busy  with  them 


THE  BOOMERANG  189 

that  you  don't  see  or  hear  anything  till  we  're  all 
in  the  room.  You  can  have  your  back  to  the  door. 
Understand?" 

"I  think  so,"  said  Budd.  He  took  a  cigarette 
from  the  case  that  Jerry  handed  him  and  lit  it. 

"Then  we  '11  all  yell,"  Jerry  went  on,  "and 
you  '11  jump  up  and  be  surprised  and  shake  hands 
with  everybody — but  not  with  Grace,"  he  added. 
"Be  cordial  to  her,  but  don't  shake  hands.  You 
see,  it  '11  be  kinder  to  her  not  to.  It  will  make  her 
realize  that  you  're  trying  to  have  things  as  she 
wants  them,  just  friends." 

"But  don't  friends  shake  hands?"  asked  Budd. 

"Yes;  but  not  under  these  conditions.  She'll 
get  what  you  mean,  and  in  the  crowd  no  one  else 
will  notice  it.  Just  act  as  if  you  'd  seen  her  every 
day  and  you  did  n't  have  to  take  special  notice  of 
her.  That 's  the  way  to  make  her  really  feel  com- 
fortable and  at  home."  He  started  for  the  door, 
but  stopped  before  he  reached  it.  "Now  there  's 
one  thing  more.  Your  mother  has  made  a  point 
of  having  Miss  Xelva  as  one  of  the  guests.  She 
does  n't  know  any  of  these  other  people;  so  make  a 
point  of  being  nice  to  her — very  nice,  won't  you?" 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  Budd.  "I  get  on  with 
Virginia  almost  as  if  she  were  my  sister.  Of 
course  I  want  her  to  have  a  good  time." 


190  THE  BOOMERANG 

"That 's  the  idea,"  said  Jerry.  "Only  for  this 
evening  you  might  try  to  forget  you  get  on  with 
her  like  a  sister.  Imagine  you  were  giving  her  a 
sort  of  rush.  We  don't  want  people  to  realize  that 
she  's  a  trained  nurse.  Dance  with  her  and  take 
her  out  on  the  veranda.  Give  her  a  time." 

"It  might  sort  of  help  to  make  it  easier  for 
Grace,"  Budd  suggested. 

"That 's  the  idea  exactly,"  cried  Jerry,  with  en- 
thusiasm. "If  she  would  only  believe  that  you 
were  having  a  good  time  with  Virginia — just  think 
of  the  load  it  would  take  off  her  mind.  You  don't 
realize  how  it  crushes  a  nice  girl  to  feel  that  she 's 
ruined  a  man's  life." 

"Well,  I'll  try,"  said  Budd,  doggedly.  The 
drink  was  beginning  to  quicken  his  circulation,  and 
his  gloom  showed  signs  of  lightening. 

"Then  everything 's  arranged,"  said  Jerry. 
"Hurry  into  your  clothes,  and  I  '11  go  down  and 
arrange  the  surprise." 

He  closed  the  door  behind  him  and  mopped  his 
brow.  The  last  half  hour  had  been  strenuous. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  great  surprise  scene  conducted  by  Marion 
went  off  successfully.  No  one  seemed  to 
think  it  odd  that  Budd  should  sit  immersed  in  the 
"Architectural  Record"  with  thirty  giggling,  tit- 
tering young  people  tiptoeing  and  rustling  into  the 
room  within  ten  feet  of  him.  And  no  one  thought 
it  odd  that  when  he  slipped  off  his  dressing-gown 
he  appeared  in  evening  clothes.  Life  in  moments 
of  excitement  accepts  things  that  would  stagger  the 
probabilities  of  the  stage.  There  was  a  great  deal 
of  noise,  hand-shaking,  and  congratulations,  and 
then  the  music  suddenly  struck  up  in  the  drawing- 
room,  and  the  dancers  made  a  rush  for  the  floor. 

Jerry  had  had  a  word  with  Grace  as  she  came  in, 
but  then  he  became  separated  in  the  crowd.  As 
the  party  streamed  into  the  ball-room,  he  fell  be- 
hind. As  he  reached  the  front  hall  it  was  empty. 
A  footfall  on  the  stair  made  him  turn.  He  saw  a 
slender  girl  descending.  She  was  in  an  evening 
gown  of  light  blue,  and  wore  a  string  of  pearls 
about  her  throat.  Her  slim,  round  arms  were 
bare.  The  mass  of  corn-colored  hair  wa§  twisted 

191 


192  THE  BOOMERANG 

in  a  Greek  knot  and  held  with  a  clasp  of  pearls. 
She  seemed  tall  and  carried  herself  like  a  grand 
duchess. 

Jerry  gasped.  The  second  look  told  him  it  was 
Virginia,  but  Virginia  so  transformed  that  it  needed 
the  glance  of  the  mild,  childlike  eyes  to  make  him 
sure. 

She  smiled  at  his  astonishment,  which  was  so 
evidently  admiring,  and  her  color  deepened. 

"Dr.  Sumner,  I  believe,"  she  said,  laughing. 

"Gosh!"  he  exclaimed,  "you  've  taken  the  wind 
out  of  me,  Virginia.  I  wouldn't  have  known 
you." 

"Am  I  aU  right?" 

"And  then  some,"  he  answered.  "How  did  you 
do  it?" 

She  looked  at  him,  coloring. 

"Do  it?"  she  repeated. 

"Why,  my  child,"  he  exclaimed,  "you  're  won- 
derful! You're  glorious!  !Why  haven't  I  ever 
realized  it?" 

"That 's  hardly  for  me  to  say,"  she  answered, 
laughing.  "I  would  n't  have  thought  that  a  change 
of  gowns  could  make  a  difference  to  a  serious  per- 
son like  you." 

"I  guess  it 's  a  case  of  nobody  home,"  he  an- 
swered, tapping  his  head. 


THE  BOOMERANG  193 

"Well,  here  I  am  as  a  vampire,"  she  said. 
"How  shall  I  go  to  work?  You  know  I  don't  know 
any  of  these  people." 

"I  '11  have  to  be  driving  the  whole  man  bunch 
off  with  a  club  in  about  two  minutes,"  he  answered. 
"We  'd  better  get  down  to  business  before  you  go 
on  exhibition."  As  he  spoke  he  saw  a  young  man 
stop  Budd,  who  was  waltzing  with  Gertrude  Lud- 
low,  and  dance  away  with  her.  Budd  came  on 
around  the  room  to  the  doorway  into  the  hall,  and 
Jerry  seized  him. 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  "here 's  a  chance  for 
you  to  get  a  turn  with  Virginia  while  I  hunt  up 
some  young  men  to  introduce  to  her.  Bring  her 
back  here  when  the  music  stops." 

Budd  cast  an  admiring  look  at  his  former  keeper. 

"My,  but  you're  some  queen!"  he  exclaimed. 
"I  never  saw  you  dolled  up  like  this." 

Virginia  laughed. 

"I  never  liked  to  believe  it,  but  I  guess  it 's  true 
that  clothes  make  the  woman,"  she  said.  "Come 
along  and  dance." 

Jerry  watched  them  start  off.  Virginia  waltzed 
in  what  for  present-day  America  was  a  somewhat 
old-fashioned  manner,  holding  herself  with  a 
stately  erecmess  and  moving  with  a  free,  gliding 
motion. 


194  THE  BOOMERANG 

"She  certainly  can  dance,"  Jerry  muttered  under 
his  breath.  Then  something  strange  began  to  hap- 
pen to  him.  His  breath  began  to  come  short  and 
quick.  Some  invisible,  intangible  force  clutched 
at  his  throat.  His  pulses  throbbed.  His  eyes  fol- 
lowed the  girl,  fascinated,  unable  to  look  away. 

"By  the  Lord!"  he  gasped.  He  stood  dazed  and 
vibrating. 

He  was  roused  from  this  amazing  state  by  Grace 
and  George  Cartwright,  who  had  stopped  dancing 
and  were  headed  toward  the  library. 

"Oh,  here  's  where  you  're  hiding!"  cried  the 
girl.  "This  is  the  way  you  keep  your  engage- 
ments!" 

"I  was  just  waiting  for  you,"  he  answered 
quickly.  "I  was  afraid  to  cut  in.  You  don't 
understand  how  a  timid  man  feels  at  a  ball." 

She  laughed  ironically,  and  they  swept  out  upon 
the  floor.  Half-way  around  the  room  he  felt  her 
start  and  grow  rigid. 

"Who  is  that  girl  in  blue?"  she  asked  a  moment 
later.  "I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  her  before." 

"The  one  over  there  dancing  with  the  Parker 
boy?"  he  answered. 

"That's  Carrie  Frothingham,"  she  said  impa- 
tiently. "The  one  with  the  pearls  and  the  light 
hair." 


THE  BOOMERANG  195 

He  pretended  to  look  about  the  room. 

"Oh,"  he  said,  "you  mean  the  girl  dancing  with 
Budd?  That's — "  But  before  he  could  finish, 
a  "Hello,  Grace!"  sounded  in  his  ears.  A  hand 
was  laid  on  his  arm,  and  Mr.  Montgomery  Chap- 
man halted  them.  "Can't  I  have  just  a  little  bit  of 
this?"  he  pleaded. 

"I'd  much  rather  not,"  said  Grace,  candidly; 
but  the  next  moment  she  was  swept  away.  "The 
next,"  she  called  back  to  Jerry,  and  he  nodded. 

He  watched  her  till  she  was  lost  in  the  crowd. 
He  saw  that  her  eyes  were  following  Virginia  and 
Budd. 

"It 's  beginning  all  right,"  he  said  to  himself. 
Then  his  eyes,  too,  hunted  out  Virginia  and  her 
partner.  He  assured  himself  that  Budd  wore  a 
real  smile  and  seemed  generally  to  be  enjoying 
himself,  and  then  Budd  seemed  to  vanish,  and  all 
that  Jerry  saw  was  the  slim,  stately,  radiant  figure 
moving  rythmically  to  the  waltz  music. 

Five  minutes  later  he  found  himself  in  the  hall 
with  Virginia  again.  The  music  had  stopped,  but 
almost  immediately  had  started  a  lively  rag-time  to 
which  the  dancers  were  doing  the  fox-trot.  Just  as 
it  began,  Budd  made  a  dive  into  the  throng  and 
emerged  with  Grace  Tyler.  It  was  the  dance  that 
had  been  promised  to  Jerry,  but  he  decided  that 


196  THE  BOOMERANG 

his  failure  to  turn  up  would  not  be  charged  against 
him.  Anyway,  he  did  not  care. 

"I  don't  do  this  thing,"  he  said  to  Virginia. 
"Let 's  go  around  to  the  veranda." 

"I  don't  do  it  very  well  myself,"  she  answered 
and  followed  him.  The  veranda  running  around 
two  sides  of  the  house  was  furnished  with  easy- 
chairs  and  divans  and  dimly  lighted  by  the  French 
windows  of  the  ball-room.  One  could  watch  the 
dancers  from  the  shadow  without  being  seen. 

"Look!"  said  Jerry.  "They're  dancing  to- 
gether." 

Virginia  looked. 

"Is  that  Miss  Tyler?  You  know,  I've  never  seen 
her." 

"That 's  your  rival,"  he  answered.  "But  lock 
at  the  boy,  laughing,  wearing  a  grin  that  would 
take  in  a  pie.  There 's  nothing  love-sick  about 
that!  Gad,  he  's  a  wonder!  If  he  can  keep  that 
up,  it 's  a  cinch!  I  only  hope  the  brandy  and  soda 
does  n't  die  in  him." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  you  gave  him  brandy 
and  soda?" 

"I  sure  did,"  he  answered. 

"I  suppose  it  is  all  right  since  you  believe  it 's 
all  a  game,"  she  observed  thoughtfully.  "Did  you 
tell  him  to  dance  with  her,  too?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  197 

Suddenly  the  thing  that  had  happened  to  Jerry 
in  the  hall  came  upon  him  again.  His  head  began 
to  swim.  His  breath  behaved  oddly.  He  stood 
gazing  at  the  girl  beside  him,  unable  to  speak,  un- 
aware of  what  was  going  on  about  him. 

"What  was  that?"  he  said  thickly.  "What  did 
you  say?" 

She  glanced  at  him  a  little  perplexed. 

"I  asked  you  if  you  made  him  dance  with  her?" 

With  an  effort  Jerry  pulled  himself  together,  and 
the  thing  seemed  to  pass  off,  though  his  knees  felt 
weak. 

"I  did  n't  have  to,"  he  answered. 

"She  's  trying  to  talk  to  him,"  observed  Virginia. 

"That 's  right,"  said  Jerry.  "She  '11  be  steering 
him  for  a  dark  corner  next.  You  see!  We 've  got 
that  young  lady  going,  and  when  we  play  our 
trump-card — "  He  broke  off  as  Virginia  touched 
his  arm. 

"Look!"  she  exclaimed.  "They've  stopped. 
She  's  limping.  She  's  sprained  her  ankle.  The 
poor  child!" 

"It 's  a  bluff,"  said  Jerry,  unfeelingly.  "What 
did  I  tell  you?  She  's  steering  him  for  the  ver- 
anda. What  do  you  think  of  the  love  game  now?" 
he  demanded.  There  was  an  earnestness  in  his 
own  tone  that  startled  him.  It  was  as  if  he  was  on 


198  THE  BOOMERANG 

the  defensive  himself,  as  if  his  reason  was  fighting 
against  that  strange,  unreasonable  emotion  that 
twice  in  the  last  half  hour  had  swept  him. 

"We  'd  better  get  out  of  here,"  she  answered,  "or 
we  '11  be  caught." 

He  acquiesced,  and  led  the  way  around  the  ver- 
anda toward  the  front  door. 

Leaning  heavily  on  Budd's  arm,  Grace  stepped 
out  into  the  dark  and  groped  her  way  to  the  divan 
from  which  Jerry  and  Virginia  had  been  watching 
the  ball-room. 

"I  'm  afraid  it  hurts  frightfully,"  said  the  boy. 

"No;  it  isn't  really  anything,"  she  answered 
bravely.  "It  '11  be  gone  in  a  minute.  I  wrenched 
it  the  other  day,  and  the  least  little  thing  brings  it 
back.  When  those  people  bumped  into  us  it  just 
snapped  over." 

"There  is  n't  anything  so  painful,"  said  Budd, 
anxiously.  He  helped  her  arrange  herself  on  the 
cushions.  "Had  n't  I  better  get  Dr.  Sumner?" 

"Oh,  no,  please  don't!"  she  cried  in  alarm. 

"But  it  may  be  serious." 

"No,"  she  insisted  heroically.  "Just  let  me  sit 
here  and  you  go  and  dance.  I  'm  not  going  to 
spoil  your  evening." 

"But  I  don't  want  to,"  he  protested.  "You  don't 
mind  if  I  stay,  do  you?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  199 

"Of  course  I  don't  mind,"  she  answered,  "only 
I  'd  feel  happier  if  I  thought  you  were  enjoying 
yourself.  I  don't  think  it 's  badly  swollen."  She 
lifted  her  foot  and  began  to  rub  her  silk-clad  ankle. 
"Can  you  feel  the  swelling?"  she  asked  presently. 

Budd  timorously  put  forth  two  fingers  and 
touched  it. 

"Perhaps  I  'd  better  turn  up  the  lights,"  he  sug- 
gested. "I  could  see  better." 

"Oh,  no!"  she  said.  "It's  pleasanter  as  it  is, 
don't  you  think  so?" 

"Yes;  I  think  so,"  he  answered.  "But  your 
ankle—" 

"Well,  the  light  can't  help  my  ankle,  can  it?" 
She  laughed  her  rippling,  silvery  laugh.  "As 
long  as  I  'm  in  this  position,  it 's  really  stopped 
hurting.  Anyway,  I  believe  in  Christian  Science 
about  things  like  this.  If  you  don't  think  about 
them,  you  don't  feel  'em.  Don't  you  think  so?" 

"I  suppose  that 's  so,"  said  Budd,  doubtfully. 
"But  I  think  you  've  been  awfully  brave  about 


it." 


"Nonsense!"  she  answered.  "I'm  the  biggest 
coward  that  ever  lived.  But  let  *s  forget  the  ankle. 
What  were  we  talking  about?" 

"Before  you  hurt  your  ankle?" 

"Yes,  when  we  were  dancing.     I  remember  now. 


200  THE  BOOMERANG 

You  were  going  to  tell  me  what  had  been  keeping 
you  so  fearfully  busy  this  last  month." 

Budd  said  nothing.  A  sudden  realization  burst 
on  him  of  what  Dr.  Sumner  would  think. 

"I  'm  waiting,"  said  Grace,  sweetly.  "What- 
ever it  was,  it  certainly  agreed  with  you.  I  don't 
think  I  've  ever  seen  you  looking  so  well." 

"That 's  what  I  always  think  about  you,"  said 
Budd.  The  fact  that  it  was  an  evasion  did  not  take 
away  from  its  evident  sincerity.  "Every  time  I  see 
you,  you  always  look  more  beautiful  than  you  ever 
did  before." 

"Why,  Budd,"  Grace  exclaimed,  "you  certainly 
have  changed  a  lot.  You  deserve  a  flower  for 
that."  She  pulled  a  rose  from  the  cluster  in  her 
belt  and,  bending  forward,  put  it  in  his  buttonhole. 
He  felt  her  hair  brush  against  his  face;  its  subtle 
fragrance  thrilled  him.  He  felt  the  spell  of  her 
beauty  fastening  upon  him.  With  an  effort  he 
drew  back.  He  seemed  to  see  the  doctor's  warning 
finger  raised  at  him. 

"Thank  you,"  he  said  in  a  hollow  voice.  Then 
a  wave  of  contempt  and  indignation  with  himself 
for  his  weakness  swept  over  him.  He  knew  that 
Jerry  was  right.  If  he  wanted  to  do  the  heroic, 
generous  thing  and  cease  from  troubling  her  with 
love-making,  he  must  be  firm.  If  he  should  seem 


"Why,  Budd,"  Grace  exclaimed,  "you  certainly  have 
changed  a  lot" 


THE  BOOMERANG  201 

to  be  brutal,  it  was  for  her  own  good.  This  was  the 
moment  for  a  decision. 

"Well?"  she  said  softly.  "I  'm  waiting  to  hear 
all  about  it." 

"I  can't  tell  you,"  he  said  huskily.  "I  'm  sorry, 
but  I  can't." 

"Can't?"  she  repeated.  "Why,  Budd,  I  don't 
understand.  Are  n't  we  still  friends?" 

"Why,  of  course." 

"Then  why  can't  you  tell  me  what 's  happened? 
Why  have  you  kept  away  from  me  all  this  time? 
You  don't  know  how  it 's  worried  me." 

"Worried  you?     Why?" 

"For  fear  that  it  was  on  account  of  something 
that  I  had  done,"  she  answered.  "You  may  not 
believe  me,  but  I  've  never  done  anything  to  hurt 
your  feelings — not  intentionally.  I  would  n't  for 
the  world,  and  the  thought  of  it  has  made  me  per- 
fectly miserable." 

Budd  sat  amazed  and  speechless.  It  was  all  as 
Jerry  had  told  him  it  would  be.  Instead  of  being 
outraged  at  his  treatment  of  her  letters,  here  she 
was  apologizing  for  something  she  was  afraid  she 
might  have  done — actually  worried  and  anxious 
about  him.  Jerry  unquestionably  was  right. 
This  was  the  way  a  good  woman  felt  responsibility 
for  the  man  whose  life  she  had  wrecked,  yet  never 


202  THE  BOOMERANG 

could  love.  If  there  was  a  spark  of  manhood  in 
him,  he  must  play  his  part  and  make  her  believe 
that  she  had  not  crushed  him.  Jerry  had  told  him 
to  laugh  and  be  jolly,  to  put  her  at  her  ease  with 
the  casual  offhand  manner  of  Platonic  friendship. 

He  forced  a  dismal  laugh  and  rose  from  the 
divan. 

"Now  don't  you  ever  be  miserable  about  me,"  he 
began,  "or  worry  either."  He  laughed  again  with 
an  imbecile  loudness.  "I  'm  a  changed  man,  I  am. 
I  'm  not  the  same  any  more.  Everything  is  just 
exactly  as  it  should  be.  I  mean  I  'm  all  over  it. 
My  ridiculous  jealousy  has  all  gone,  my  mournful- 
ness  has  all  gone."  He  gave  another  empty  laugh. 
"My  love  has  all  gone.  You  don't  have  to  worry 
any  more." 

The  darkness  hid  Grace's  face.  She  listened, 
frozen  with  amazement. 

"But,  Budd,"  she  gasped,  "you  mean  we  are  n't 
friends?" 

"Why,  of  course,  friends,"  he  answered. 
"Is  n't  it  great  that  it 's  all  turned  out  so  well?" 
He  giggled  nervously. 

Grace  made  no  answer.  Just  then  Freddie 
Parker  came  through  the  French  window  from  the 
ball-room  and  stood  peering  into  the  darkness. 

"Hello !"  he  called.     "I  thought  I  'd  find  you  out 


THE  BOOMERANG  203 

here.     Give  me  some  of  this  next  dance,  will  you?" 

"She  's  turned  her  ankle,"  said  Budd.  He  rose 
and  moved  away  down  the  veranda.  He  had  been 
as  noble  as  he  could  be  in  one  evening.  He  felt 
that  he  could  n't  bear  any  more  of  it.  There  was 
a  lump  in  his  throat  that  ached.  As  he  lit  a  ciga- 
rette his  hand  shook.  He  took  a  few  puffs.  It 
tasted  bitter,  and  he  threw  it  out  upon  the  lawn. 
As  he  turned  into  the  house,  Jerry,  who  was  stand- 
ing in  the  hall,  saw  him  and  beckoned  to  him. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "how  is  it  going?  Are  you  be- 
having yourself?" 

"I  don't  think  she  '11  worry  about  me  any  more^' 
Budd  said  dismally.  "I  've  told  her  not  to — that 
I  was  all  over  it." 

"And  what  did  she  say?" 

"She  did  n't  say  anything,"  Budd  answered. 
"She  sprained  her  ankle.  I  left  her  with  Freddie 
Parker  out  on  the  veranda." 

Jerry  seized  his  hand  and  gripped  it. 

"My  son,  you  're  going  strong,"  he  said.  "All 
you  've  got  to  do  is  to  keep  it  up.  Virginia  is  in 
there  dancing  with  a  red-headed  boy.  Fly  at  it  and 
give  her  a  good  time.  And  say,"  he  added,  in- 
specting him  carefully,  "you  might  have  just  one 
more  little  drink.  It 's  a  bad  thing  as  a  rule,  but 
in  emergencies  like  this  it  might  be  justifiable.  It 


204  THE  BOOMERANG 

helps  one  to  be  jolly  in  a  more  graceful  and  natural 


manner." 


"All  right,"  said  Budd,  "but  I  'm  worried  about 
her  ankle." 

"Don't!"  said  Jerry.     "I  '11  attend  to  that." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A  FEW  moments  later  Jerry  made  his  way 
around  the  veranda  to  the  corner  where 
Grace  was  sitting  with  young  Parker.  Evidently 
the  conversation  had  not  been  going  easily,  for  the 
young  man  rose  as  Jerry  came  up  and  went  back  to 
the  ball-room. 

"May  I  sit  down  and  visit?"  he  asked. 

"It  would  be  very  nice,"  she  answered. 

Jerry  caught  the  subdued  note  in  her  voice  and 
chuckled. 

"Budd  told  me  that  you  'd  sprained  your  ankle," 
he  said.  "I  thought  I  'd  come  and  see  if  I  could  be 
of  any  use." 

"It 's  nothing,"  she  answered. 

"A  sprained  ankle  is  a  good  deal,"  he  said. 
"Which  one  is  it?" 

"Why,  this  one,  the  right,"  she  answered. 

"Let  me  see  it." 

She  stretched  out  her  right  foot,  and  Jerry, 
bending  forward,  took  it.  He  ran  his  fingers  over 
the  ankle,  felt  it,  and  flexed  it. 

"Does  that  hurt?" 

205 


206  THE  BOOMERANG 

"A  little,  but  not  much.  I  think  I  just  turned 
it.  It 's  much,  much  better." 

"I  don't  think  there  's  anything  serious  the  mat- 
ter with  it,"  he  observed,  straightening  up.  "You 
might  put  it  in  hot  water  when  you  go  to  bed  and 
put  a  compress  on  it.  But  as  long  as  it 's  com- 
fortable now  that 's  the  main  thing."  The  injured 
ankle  was,  as  he  had  suspected,  imaginary.  By 
this  time  Budd  and  Virginia  should  have  been 
dancing,  and  he  wanted  Grace  to  get  the  full  effect 
of  it. 

"I  wish  I  could  do  the  things  that  some  of  those 
boys  are  doing  in  there,"  he  observed.  "Look  at 
Gertrude  Ludlow's  brother!" 

"He  's  very  good,"  Grace  answered,  "but  you 
could  learn  if  you  'd  take  a  few  lessons." 

Just  then  Virginia  floated  by  the  window  with 
Budd.  There  was  a  silence;  then  Grace  said  in  a 
constrained  voice: 

"What  a  pretty  girl  Miss  Xelva  is,  and  so  smart!" 

"Isn't  she?"  he  answered.  "And  so  nice,  too. 
I  see  you  found  out  her  name." 

Grace  nodded. 

"She  looks  very  nice.  Is  she  a  friend  of 
yours?" 

"Oh,  in  a  way  I  know  her.  Have  n't  you  ever 
seen  her  before?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  207 

"No." 

"That 's  funny." 

"Why?     Has  she  been  in  town  long?" 

"Oh,  a  month  or  so." 

"A  month?" 

"Just  about,  I  should  say." 

"Stopping  with  friends?" 

"Don't  you  know  where  she  's  stopping?" 

"No." 

"Why,  here.  She 's  been  visiting  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge." 

Grace  started. 

"Ankle  hurt?"  he  asked. 

"Just  a  little.  I  gave  it  a  twist."  Her  voice  had 
grown  more  strained. 

"It's  funny  you  haven't  met  her.  You  must 
have  heard  of  her." 

"Why?" 

"I  thought  everybody  had  been  talking  about 
that." 

"That?"  she  repeated. 

"About  her  and  Budd.  They  've  been  together 
ever  since  she  came.  Looks  to  me  like  a  desperate 
case  on  both  sides.  Of  course  I  don't  know  any- 
thing about  it,  but  having  eyes,  I  'm  expecting  an 
announcement  any  day.  I  thought  perhaps  to- 


208  THE  BOOMERANG 

night  they  'd  spring  it  on  us,  seeing  that  it  was  his 
birthday." 

"I  see,"  said  Grace  in  a  voice  that  was  scarcely 
audible. 

"It  would  be  nice,  don't  you  think?"  he  went  on. 
"Budd  has  plenty  of  money,  and  she  's  delightful. 
Then  Mrs.  Woodbridge  is  devoted  to  her,  and  that 
means  something  even  in  these  days." 

A  weak  "Yes,  it  would  be  very  nice"  came  from 
the  darkness  beside  him. 

A  wave  of  pity  swept  over  Jerry.  The  girl  was 
suffering.  There  was  no  doubt  that  she  cared  for 
Budd.  For  a  moment  he  thought  of  throwing  off 
the  mask  and  telling  her  the  truth,  but  his  better 
judgment  held  him  back.  He  must  be  merciless 
and  play  the  game  out,  or  all  his  work  would  go  for 
nothing.  He  knew  Grace  well  enough  to  be  confi- 
dent that  she  would  fight  to  the  end  and  that  since 
she  believed  Budd  to  be  in  love  with  Virginia,  she 
would  do  everything  in  her  power  to  get  him  back. 
All  that  he  had  to  do  was  to  keep  Budd  in  check 
and  let  events  take  their  course.  The  game  was 
all  over  but  the  shouting,  and  Jerry  was  not  with- 
out a  certain  complacent  self-satisfaction  over  the 
success  with  which  he  had  worked  it  out. 

Another  thought  also  came  to  him  as  he  sat  there 
in  the  dark  beside  his  writhing  victim.  At  the  out- 


THE  BOOMERANG  209 

set  the  conception  of  love  as  a  game  of  tactics  and 
counter-tactics  had  been  invented  for  Budd's  bene- 
fit rather  than  evolved  from  his  own  matured  con- 
victions on  the  subject.  Now  as  the  facts  seemed 
to  bear  out  his  proposition,  he  experienced  a  sense 
of  somewhat  bitter  disillusionment.  What  he  had 
formulated  with  half -humorous  cynicism  for  a  ben- 
evolent end  was,  after  all,  the  truth.  It  was  a 
sorry  business,  but  one  had  to  face  the  facts.  He 
registered  a  vow  of  gratitude  that  he  had  always 
been  wise  enough  to  escape  the  fatal  and  humil- 
iating pangs  of  jealousy.  As  the  silence  length- 
ened, he  knew  that  he  had  to  say  something.  The 
music  had  stopped,  and  a  waltz  began  again. 

"Do  you  think  your  ankle  could  stand  a  turn 
of  this?"  he  asked.  "You  know  it  sometimes 
helps  a  sprain  to  exercise  on  it." 

"I  don't  think  I  could,"  she  answered  huskily. 
"I  really  think  I  ought  to  go  home.  Somehow  it 's 
made  my  head  ache." 

"I  'm  awfully  sorry,"  he  said.  "Do  you  want 
me  to  find  your  motor  for  you?" 

"I  'm  afraid  it  is  n't  here,"  she  answered.  "I 
did  n't  order  it  to  come  for  me.  If  you  'd  be  good 
enough  to  telephone — " 

"But  I  '11  run  you  home  if  you  are  really  going." 

"You  're  very  good,  but,  you  see,  Preston  was 


210  THE  BOOMERANG 

going  to  stop  for  me  about  half  past  eleven.  Will 
you  telephone  him  that  I  'm  ready  to  go  now? 
Just  say  that  I  've  asked  you  to  ask  him  to  come 
for  me  right  away  in  his  runabout." 

"Of  course,"  said  Jerry.  "You  '11  wait  here?" 
She  nodded,  and  he  started  for  the  telephoner 
"So  she 's  going  to  play  Preston  again,"  he 
thought;  "had  him  up  her  sleeve  in  case  of  accident. 
Some  head  that  girl  has."  As  he  reached  the  front 
door  and  was  about  to  enter  the  house,  an  impulse 
led  him  to  stop  and  glance  at  the  line  of  automo- 
biles drawn  up  along  the  curb.  The  fifth  car  was 
the  Tylers'  limousine  with  the  family  chauffeur 
sleeping  peacefully  at  the  wheel.  He  chuckled. 
"She  *s  certainly  a  quick  actor,"  he  thought.  He 
turned  into  the  house  and  called  up  De  Witt's 
apartment.  The  servant  told  him  that  Preston  had 
gone  to  New  York  that  morning  and  had  not  re- 
turned. He  smiled  and  made  his  way  to  the  li- 
brary. Here  he  lighted  a  cigarette  and  began  to 
figure  out  the  next  move.  The  cards  were  running 
against  Grace.  The  question  was  how  to  play 
them.  He  knew  that  Budd's  new-found  independ- 
ence was  not  to  be  relied  upon.  If  Grace  started 
a  vigorous  counter-offensive  with  De  Witt,  it  would 
wilt  like  a  plucked  wild  rose,  and  they  would  be 
back  where  they  were  at  the  beginning.  Without 


THE  BOOMERANG  211 

delay  he  must  get  Budd  and  Grace  together,  and 
let  her  make  her  effort  to  win  him  back  instead  of 
reducing  him  by  the  indirect  fire  of  his  old  jealousy. 
She  was  evidently  deeply  in  love  with  him.  She 
was  masterful  and  fearless.  If  she  felt  that  she 
had  an  even  chance,  Jerry  believed  that  she  would 
not  balk  at  doing  the  proposing  herself.  Her  les- 
son had  been  a  severe  one  and  would  not  have  to  be 
repeated.  The  thing  to  do,  therefore,  was  to  send 
Budd  back  to  her  with  instructions  to  be  friendly 
and  kind,  dropping  the  suggestion  also  that  pos- 
sibly in  years  to  come,  if  he  kept  himself  in  hand 
and  made  no  demands,  she  might  grow  to  care  for 
him  again. 

As  he  flicked  away  the  ashes  of  his  cigarette,  the 
part  that  Preston  had  played  in  this  triangular 
comedy  passed  through  his  mind.  It  was  clear 
now  that  Grace  had  never  cared  for  him.  He  had 
amused  her,  and  she  had  used  him  to  torment  Budd 
and  protect  herself  from  his  distasteful  assump- 
tions of  proprietorship.  It  was  also  probable  that 
Preston  had  had  no  misconception  of  the  situation. 
He  was  much  too  clear-headed  to  be  taken  in.  If, 
then,  he  knew  that  he  had  no  chance  with  Grace,  it 
was  the  more  possible  that  he  was  seriously  inter- 
ested in  Virginia.  The  circumstance  that  she  was 
apparently  Mrs.  Woodbridge's  guest  might  well  be 


212  THE  BOOMERANG 

construed  as  indicating  that  she  was  far  from  pen- 
niless. Dressed  as  she  was  that  night,  she  might 
have  been  the  daughter  of  anybody  great  and  im- 
portant and  in  herself  she  was  certainly  a  sensa- 
tion. He  wondered  why  he  had  never  realized  it 
before.  But  that  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  mat- 
ter in  hand. 

If  Preston  was  really  in  love  with  her,  it  was  an 
outrageous  and  impossible  thing.  He  was  un- 
worthy to  be  her  door-mat,  and  it  was  inconceivable 
that  she  could  think  seriously  of  him.  Yet  it  was 
not  uncommon  for  girls  like  that  to  throw  them- 
selves away  on  just  such  men  as  Preston. 

He  ground  the  lighted  end  of  the  cigarette  into 
the  ash-tray  as  if  it  had  been  Preston's  head.  As 
soon  as  he  got  Budd  off  his  mind  he  would  take  a 
hand  in  the  matter.  However,  Budd's  case  must 
be  attended  to  first.  Jerry  rose  and  started  to  hunt 
for  his  patient. 

Now  the  patient,  having  accomplished  three 
turns  of  the  room  with  Virginia,  was  intercepted 
by  the  red-headed  boy,  who  had  fallen  a  sudden 
and  complete  victim.  Without  a  partner,  he 
stepped  back  out  of  the  way  of  the  dancing.  There 
were  two  things  that  presented  themselves  as  next 
on  the  evening's  program.  First,  he  might  take 
that  drink  that  the  doctor  had  prescribed.  Sec- 


THE  BOOMERANG  213 

ond,  he  ought  to  dance  successively  with  his  female 
guests.  However,  the  evening  was  still  young. 
There  was  plenty  of  time  for  dancing.  As  for  the 
drink,  he  did  n't  want  it.  The  scene  with  Grace 
in  which  he  had  displayed  so  much  nobility  and 
resolution  was  already  troubling  him.  He  had 
honestly  tried  to  put  the  mind  of  a  conscientious 
and  anxious  woman  at  rest,  but  he  was  aware  that 
he  had  not  wholly  concealed  his  anguish,  that  un- 
doubted traces  of  bitterness  had  flavored  his  ut- 
terances on  the  subject  of  his  being  a  changed  man. 
The  more  he  thought  about  it,  the  clearer  it  became 
to  him  that  he  had  bungled  as  usual.  A  nice  girl 
who  has  wrecked  a  man's  life  can  only  be  more 
troubled  when  she  sees  her  victim  trying  earnestly, 
but  vainly,  to  conceal  his  suffering.  He  decided, 
therefore,  to  go  to  her  again  and  put  things  to 
rights.  How  he  was  to  do  it  was  not  clear,  but  he 
felt  that  he  ought  to  try. 

Just  about  the  time  that  Jerry  was  telephoning 
Preston's  house,  Budd  slipped  out  of  the  ball-room 
window.  As  his  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the 
darkness,  he  made  out  a  dim  form  on  the  divan. 
He  advanced  cautiously,  making  sure  that  no  one 
was  beside  her.  Within  a  few  feet  of  her  he 
stopped.  He  could  distinguish  the  outline  of  her 
body  reclining  against  the  cushions,  but  apparently 


214  THE  BOOMERANG 

it  was  "without  a  face.  This  unusual  circumstance 
occupied  him  for  only  a  moment.  Then  strange 
little  sounds  arrested  his  attention.  They  came, 
muffled  and  irregular,  from  the  region  where,  in 
the  natural  course  of  things,  the  face  should  have 
been. 

Budd's  first  thought  was  that  the  sounds  were 
laughter  stifled  with  a  handkerchief  or  a  cushion. 
Grace  had  some  joke  that  amused  her  beyond  en- 
durance. He  could  see  dimly  that  her  body  shook 
in  little  spasms  as  in  a  series  of  uncontrollable 
chuckles.  He  drew  back  a  step.  He  was  in  no 
mood  for  that  kind  of  thing.  Then  his  ears  caught 
a  note  that  made  him  start.  It  was  not  laughter. 
He  stood  frozen  with  apprehension  and  horror. 
Grace  was  weeping — sobbing  her  heart  out,  with 
her  face  buried  in  a  sofa  pillow.  Only  one  thing 
could  be  the  cause  of  it.  His  effort  to  be  noble  and 
set  her  mind  at  rest  about  him  had  failed  more 
calamitously  than  he  could  have  imagined. 

With  breath  coming  quickly,  Budd  moved  noise- 
lessly to  the  divan. 

"Grace,"  he  whispered. 

The  girl  looked  up  apprehensively,  saw  who  it 
was,  and  buried  her  face  deeper  in  the  pillow. 

Calling  her  name  again,  he  bent  over  her.  She 
had  never  seemed  so  beautiful.  Pity  and  love 


THE  BOOMERANG  215 

swelled  in  him.  Yielding  to  an  overwhelming  im- 
pulse to  fold  her  to  his  heart  and  comfort  her,  he 
laid  his  hand  upon  her  arm  and  bent  down.  She 
turned  to  shake  off  his  hand.  Her  face  met  his, 
and  the  next  moment  he  had  kissed  her  fairly  on  the 
mouth. 

She  gave  a  little  cry  and  struggled  to  push  him 
away;  but  Budd,  beside  himself,  clasped  her 
fiercely,  kissing  her  cheek  and  hair. 

In  an  instant  she  tore  herself  free  and  stood  be- 
fore him,  speechless  and  white  with  anger. 

"You  cad!"  she  gasped.  "You-  Then 
bursting  into  a  fresh  outbreak  of  sobbing,  she  ran 
along  the  veranda. 

Budd,  stupefied  with  horror,  stood  and  watched 
her.  As  she  disappeared  around  the  corner  of  the 
house,  some  command  of  his  senses  returned  to 
him,  and  he  followed.  He  reached  the  front  steps 
in  time  to  see  her  pass  through  the  gate  and  turn 
down  the  line  of  waiting  motors.  A  moment  later 
he  heard  the  snap  of  an  automobile  door.  Then 
an  engine  started,  and  the  Tylers'  limousine  began 
to  move  down  the  street.  He  was  still  watching  the 
red  tail-light  when  Jerry's  voice  brought  him  back 
to  earth. 

"I  was  just  looking  for  you,"  said  Jerry. 
"Where's  Grace?" 


216  THE  BOOMERANG 

"She  's  gone,"  Budd  answered  in  a  hollow  voice. 

"Gone?" 

"She  just  drove  off  in  her  motor."  Without 
saying  anything  more,  he  went  down  the  steps  to- 
ward the  street  and,  hatless  as  he  was,  hurried  off 
aimlessly  in  the  opposite  direction  to  that  which  the 
motor  had  taken. 

Jerry's  first  impulse  had  been  to  call  after  him, 
but  he  checked  it.  What  he  thought  had  happened 
was  this:  Grace  had  suddenly  remembered  that 
Preston  was  out  of  town  and  that  she  was  getting  in 
deeper  by  asking  Jerry  to  telephone  him.  There- 
fore she  had  suddenly  decided  to  escape  in  her 
own  car,  which  she  knew  was  waiting,  and  reserve 
the  opening  of  her  campaign  till  later.  There  was 
nothing  to  be  done  about  it.  After  all,  the  main 
thing  had  been  accomplished,  to  make  Grace  be- 
lieve that  Miss  Xelva  had  captured  Budd,  and  to 
keep  Budd  from  giving  the  truth  away.  Loose  on 
the  streets,  the  boy  could  get  into  no  trouble,  love- 
sick as  he  might  be,  as  long  as  Grace  was  safely  at 
home,  nursing  her  own  wounded  sensibilities. 
Jerry,  therefore,  turned  back  into  the  house,  re- 
solved to  get  a  bite  of  supper  and  go  home.  Taken 
as  a  whole,  he  felt  that  the  surprise  party  had  ac- 
complished much  that  he  had  hoped  for.  A  man 


THE  BOOMERANG  217 

cannot  expect  everything  to  come  out  according  to 
schedule.  He  lit  a  fresh  cigarette  and,  with  the 
glow  of  satisfaction  that  comes  from  hard-won  vic- 
tory, turned  back  into  the  house. 

Opening  off  from  the  library  was  a  small  room 
with  an  outdoor  entrance  that  the  late  Mr.  Wood- 
bridge  had  used  as  an  office  and  den.  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge  used  it  on  occasions  to  interview  servants 
and  receive  business  callers,  but  for  the  most  part 
it  remained  unoccupied,  and  the  door  leading  to 
the  library  was  invariably  kept  shut.  As  Jerry 
passed  the  library,  on  his  way  to  the  dining-room, 
he  happened  to  glance  in.  In  the  corner  near  the 
office  door  Virginia  was  sitting  on  the  arm  of  an 
easy-chair,  her  back  toward  him.  The  lamplight 
fell  on  her  hair,  making  an  aureole  like  a  saint's 
about  her  little  head.  Jerry  stopped.  The  thing 
that  twice  before  that  evening  had  attacked  him 
came  back  again.  He  made  no  effort  to  combat 
it.  Despite  anything  his  brain  might  tell  him, 
every  drop  of  his  blood,  every  fiber  in  his  body, 
cried  out  that  the  slim  girl  before  him  was  the  end 
and  object  of  existence.  If  that  was  love,  then 
love  had  him  fast,  and  he  knew  that  it  was  nothing 
else.  At  last  the  great  adventure  had  overtaken 
him.  There  was  no  doubt  to  be  argued  with,  no 


218  THE  BOOMERANG 

question  as  to  whether  the  thing  was  some  transitory 
gust  of  passion.  The  uttermost  depths  of  his  na- 
ture answered  hers. 

Despite  the  emotion  that  set  his  pulses  throbbing, 
his  mind  worked  quickly.  He  would  go  forward 
then  and  there  and  confront  her  with  the  whirlwind 
in  his  soul,  confident  that  she  would  respond,  know- 
ing that  she  must,  certain  that  the  fire  that  she  had 
kindled  in  him  must  be  burning  in  her  also. 

Precisely  at  that  moment  the  office  door  opened, 
Mrs.  Woodbridge  appeared  and  beckoned  to  Vir- 
ginia. The  girl  rose  and  passed  into  the  little 
room.  The  door  closed,  but  apparently  caught 
her  dress,  for  it  quickly  opened  again,  and  Jerry 
saw  Preston  De  Witt  standing  in  the  doorway.  A 
moment  later  Mrs.  Woodbridge  emerged  with  the 
satisfied  smile  of  the  woman  who  believes  she  has 
been  acting  as  confidential  agent  for  the  angel  of 
fate. 

Jerry  wheeled  as  if  under  a  blow,  and  passed 
down  the  hall.  The  band  was  crashing  out  a  rag- 
time with  drums  and  cymbals.  The  dancers  were 
gliding  and  whirling.  The  lights  blazed.  Dazed 
and  unaware  of  it  all,  he  reached  the  door  and 
plunged  out  into  the  night.  Which  way  he  turned 
as  he  reached  the  street  he  did  not  know,  but  walked 
blindly  on  through  the  dim,  tree-arched  streets. 


The  thing  that  had  twice  before  that  evening  attacked  him 
came  back  again 


THE  BOOMERANG  219 

At  some  corner  that  he  rounded  ten  minutes  later 
he  came  upon  Budd.  They  passed  in  the  darkness 
without  speaking.  Suddenly  Jerry  caught  himself 
up,  looked  back,  and  put  his  hand  to  his  head. 
He,  too,  was  hatless.  He  straightened  himself, 
threw  back  his  shoulders,  and  laughed.  His 
laughter  was  loud  and  ringing,  but  there  was  little 
mirth  in  it.  A  lone  policeman  started  and  looked 
at  him  suspiciously.  Then  he  went  on  and,  turn- 
ing into  Elm  Street,  made  his  way  home. 


PART  V 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  next  morning  Jerry  appeared  at  the  family 
breakfast-table  outwardly  much  as  usual,  but 
only  outwardly.  He  was  grateful  that  Marion  had 
not  put  in  an  appearance.  The  colonel  was  going 
through  his  letters  and  took  no  notice  of  him. 
Suddenly  his  father's  face  lighted. 

"Well,  this  is  amazing!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Here  's  your  hospital,  my  boy!  Fallen  from  the 
sky!  A  million  to  start  with!  More  if  you  need 
it!"  He  brandished  the  letter  excitedly. 

Jerry  gazed  at  him  dully. 

"Who  is  it?"  he  asked. 

"Bruce  Gordon,"  the  colonel  answered.  "He 
wants  to  give  the  town  a  memorial  to  his  mother. 
The  last  time  I  was  in  New  York  I  told  him  about 
the  way  you  'd  taken  hold,  and  now  he  wants  to  put 
this  matter  in  your  hands." 

"It 's  very  good  of  him,"  Jerry  said  quietly. 

"You  don't  seem  to  be  very  enthusiastic,"  said 
the  colonel,  with  a  note  of  disappointment  in  his 
voice.  "I  thought  it  would  please  you." 

"It 's  great,  of  course,"  Jerry  answered.     "I  've 

223 


224  THE  BOOMERANG 

got  some  work  that 's  on  my  mind  just  at  present. 
We  '11  talk  about  it  later."  He  rose,  leaving  his 
eggs  untasted,  and  went  to  the  office.  As  he  entered 
he  started  apprehensively.  He  had  forgotten  that 
Virginia  would  be  there.  Then  he  cursed  himself. 
Of  course  he  would  have  to  meet  Virginia.  Why 
in  heaven's  name  should  n't  he?  If  she  chose  to 
be  interested  in  another  man,  was  that  an  excuse 
for  him  to  behave  like  an  idiot,  like  Budd?  The 
bell  lay  on  the  desk  within  reach  of  his  hand.  A 
touch  of  his  finger,  and  she  would  be  in  the  room. 
He  would  show  himself  that  he  was  not  in  Budd's 
class  yet — not  by  a  jugful.  He  had  undergone  a 
disturbing  experience,  but  it  was  past,  and  he  was 
himself  again.  Besides,  Virginia  was  not  yet  mar- 
ried to  Preston,  and  a  great  deal  might  happen  be- 
fore she  was. 

However,  instead  of  pressing  the  button,  he 
lighted  a  cigarette,  took  one  puff,  and  flung  it  to- 
ward the  fireplace.  Then  in  a  fit  of  indignation 
with  himself  he  rang  violently.  Almost  instantly 
the  door  opened,  and  Emile  entered. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  demanded  Jerry. 
"Where  's  Miss  Xelva?" 

"She  telephone  she  be  late  this  morning,"  the 
man  answered. 

"Is  she  ill?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  225 

"She  say  some  one  come  to  see  her,  but  she  be 
here  by  office  hours,"  Emile  answered.  "Mr. 
Woodbridge  want  to  see  you,"  he  went  on.  "He 
been  out  here  twenty  minute',  walk  up  and  down, 
up  and  down,  very  restless." 

"Show  him  in,"  commanded  Jerry.  He  began 
to  feel  better.  The  absurdity  of  Budd's  troubles 
helped  him  to  realize  the  absurdity  of  his  own. 

"Hello!"  he  called  out  cheerily  as  Budd  en- 
tered. "What 's  up  now?"  A  glance  at  the  pa- 
tient showed  that  Emile's  description  of  him  as 
"very  restless"  was  an  understatement.  The  boy 
looked  as  though  he  had  been  put  through  a 
wringer.  He  carried  a  hand-bag,  which  he  set  on 
a  chair. 

"Doctor  Sumner,"  he  began  abruptly,  "I  want 
you  to  tell  my  mother  that  you  've  ordered  me  to 
take  a  trip." 

"What  for?" 

"For  my  health." 

"And  where  am  I  sending  you?" 

"To  New  York." 

"That's  a  good  place  to  go  for  health.  How 
soon  are  you  leaving?" 

"By  the  next  train — the  eleven-twenty." 

"Sit  down,"  said  Jerry.  "Now  what  is  this  all 
about?" 


226  THE  BOOMERANG 

"It  is  n't  necessary  to  talk  about  it.  All  I  want 
to  do  is  to  get  away." 

"But  it  happens  that  it  is  necessary,"  Jerry  an- 
swered. "Just  before  Grace  went  home  last  night 
you  were  going  strong.  Everything  was  fine. 
Then  the  next  thing  I  knew,  she  had  bolted  and 
you  'd  dashed  off  like  a  crazy  man  without  a  hat." 

"I  met  you  going  home  without  a  hat  yourself  a 
little  later,"  Budd  countered. 

"That 's  neither  here  nor  there,"  said  Jerry, 
high-handedly.  "I  want  to  know  what  happened." 

"I  tell  you,"  said  Budd  with  dignity,  "that  I  pre- 
fer not  to  discuss  the  matter.  My  treatment  is 
finished." 

"And  I  suppose  you're  a  well  man;  in  which 
case  I  don't  see  why  I  should  order  you  off  on  a 
trip." 

Budd  sank  into  a  chair  and  gazed  at  him  miser- 
ably. 

"Now  tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  Jerry,  kindly. 

Budd  told  him.  As  he  drew  toward  the  close 
of  his  account  of  embracing  Grace  on  the  divan,  his 
emotions  got  the  better  of  him,  and  he  had  diffi- 
culty in  going  on. 

"It  was  terrible,"  he  said,  "terrible." 

Jerry  suppressed  a  desire  to  laugh. 


THE  BOOMERANG  227 

"It  was  terrible,"  he  said  gravely.  "But  there  's 
one  more  thing  I  want  to  know.  Did  you  see  her 
again  last  night?" 

"Oh,  no!"  the  boy  answered.  "Of  course  I  can 
never  see  her  again  after  behaving  as  I  did." 

"Well,"  said  Jerry,  hopefully,  "I  can't  see  that 
any  great  harm  has  been  done.  I  was  afraid  that 
you  'd  given  our  little  plan  away." 

Budd  looked  at  him  anxiously. 

"What  harm  would  that  do?"  he  demanded. 
"Because  after  I  got  home  I  wrote  her." 

"Apologizing  for  having  behaved  in  an  ungen- 
tlemanly  manner,  I  suppose." 

"Yes,  and  a  lot  more." 

"You  did  n't  tell  her  that  you  loved  her  still?" 

"I  did." 

"And  that  you  'd  never  cared  for  anybody  else?" 

"Yes." 

"And  about  my  part  in  the  matter?" 

"I  told  her  everything — that  I  'd  tried  to  get  over 
it,  but  that  I  was  worse  than  ever." 

"Budd,"  said  Jerry,  with  exasperation,  "you  are 
a  hopeless  idiot." 

"I  know  it,"  said  Budd,  "but  I  can't  help  it." 

"Can't  you  see  that  everything  was  going  just  as 
we  hoped  and  planned  it  should?  Why  in  heaven's 


228  THE  BOOMERANG 

name  could  n't  you  have  let  well  enough  alone?" 

"When  I  found  her  crying  out  there — "  the  boy 
began. 

"But  don't  you  know  what  made  her  cry?" 

"I  suppose  her  ankle  hurt  her.  What  else  could 
it  have  been?" 

"0  Lord!"  Jerry  exclaimed  hopelessly.  "Don't 
you  know  that  she  was  crying  because  she  was 
jealous?" 

The  boy  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 

"Because  she  was  jealous?"  he  repeated  incredu- 
lously. 

"Is  n't  that  enough  to  make  her  cry?  Has  n't  it 
the  same  effect  on  you?" 

"But  who  would  she  be  jealous  of?"  the  boy  de- 
manded. 

"Why,  Virginia,  of  course.  Did  n't  she  see  you 
dancing  with  her?  Could  n't  you  guess  that  I  was 
helping  you  along  by  telling  her  that  you  and  Miss 
Xelva  were  great  friends  and  for  a  month  past  she 
had  been  stopping  with  your  mother?" 

A  light  dawned  slowly  upon  the  boy. 

"Good  heavens,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  believe  that 's 
it!" 

"Of  course  it  is,"  said  Jerry.  "And  can't  you 
see  that  if  she  is  jealous,  it  proves  that  she  must 
care  for  you?" 


THE  BOOMERANG  229 

"Oh,  no;  it  is  n't  that,"  Budd  answered.  "She  9s 
jealous  of  Virginia,  but  that  has  n't  anything  to  do 
with  me.  She  'd  know  that  Virginia  and  I  were 
just  friends." 

It  was  Jerry's  turn  to  look  surprised. 

"But  who  else  could  it  have  to  do  with?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"Why,  Preston  De  Witt.  I  don't  suppose  you 
know  about  that.  I  only  found  out  myself  last 
night." 

A  strange  numbness  came  over  Jerry.  The 
room  began  to  swim.  The  inkstand  on  the  desk 
seemed  to  recede.  The  boy  in  the  chair  grew 
small  and  far  away.  With  an  effort  of  the  will  he 
collected  himself. 

"Found  out  what?"  he  demanded  in  a  voice  that 
he  dreaded  to  trust. 

"Why,  it 's  this  way,"  Budd  answered  ingenu- 
ously. "You  see,  Grace  has  been  completely  fas- 
cinated by  that  fellow,  but  ever  since  he  was  sure 
of  her  I  suppose  he  's  cared  less  about  her  than  he 
did  at  first.  It's  just  your  theory  about  love. 
Anyway,  for  the  last  two  weeks  he  's  been  coming 
to  see  Virginia.  How  he  met  her  I  don't  know.  I 
never  cared  to  ask,  and  he  never  came  to  the  house 
when  I  was  there  except  once,  but  mother  let  it 
drop  that  something  was  up.  She  thinks  Preston 


230  THE  BOOMERANG 

is  a  very  nice  fellow,  and  of  course  he  is  bright. 
Well,  last  night  after  the  party  mother  said  he  had 
been  there  again.  He  did  n't  know  about  the  sur- 
prise." 

"Your  mother  certainly  is  n't  encouraging  that 
bounder  to  make  love  to  Virginia?"  said  Jerry, 
savagely. 

"She  does  n't  think  he  's  a  bounder.  I  'm  afraid 
there  's  a  good  deal  to  it,"  he  added.  "It 's  ter- 
rible for  Grace." 

"Do  you  know  anything  more  about  this?"  Jerry 
demanded. 

"Well,  Preston  called  to  see  her  again  this  morn- 
ing. I  did  n't  know  it  and  was  just  going  into  the 
library  when  mother  stopped  me.  She  said  he  was 
in  there  with  Virginia.  I  asked  her  what  it  meant, 
and  she  smiled — you  know  the  way  women  act 
about  such  things — and  answered  that  I  'd  know  in 
time,  and  that  Virginia  was  a  very  lucky  girl,  and 
that  there  would  be  a  great  surprise  when  it  came 
out.  It  will  break  Grace's  heart." 

"The  devil  take  Grace!"  Jerry  muttered  under 
his  breath.  Everything  bore  out  the  conclusion 
that  had  been  forced  on  him  last  night.  He  sat 
stunned  and  helpless  for  a  time  while  the  boy 
watched  him  wonderingly.  Presently  he  swung 
round  in  his  chair,  rose,  and  squared  his  shoulders. 


THE  BOOMERANG  231 

He  wanted  to  be  alone.  He  must  have  time  to 
think.  If  there  was  anything  that  could  be  done, 
he  must  do  it.  If  not,  he  must  get  himself  in  hand 
to  face  the  facts.  But  first  he  must  finish  up  with 
Budd. 

"So  you  want  to  go  to  New  York?"  he  said 
grimly. 

Budd  nodded. 

"And  then  what?" 

"I  don't  know." 

The  boy  sat  there  crushed  and  hopeless.  A 
wave  of  sympathy  such  as  he  had  never  known  be- 
fore swept  over  Jerry.  Now  that  he  was  up  against 
the  same  situation  and  knew  the  pain  of  it,  he  felt 
drawn  to  Budd  in  a  new  way.  The  boy's  pathetic 
helplessness  wrung  his  heart. 

"Did  you  write  her  that  you  were  going?"  he 
asked. 

Budd  nodded. 

"I  said  that  she  would  never  be  bothered  by  me 
again.  It  was  the  least  I  could  do." 

"Budd,'3  said  Jerry,  "I  don't  feel  as  competent 
to  advise  you  as  I  once  did.  Things  don't  seem 
to  work  out  always  as  they  should,  but  I  think  it 
would  be  very  unwise  of  you  to  clear  out  to-day." 

"I  don't  see  why,"  the  boy  answered.  "I  can't 
stand  hanging  about  here  any  longer.  I  know 


232  THE  BOOMERANG 

you  're  a  great  doctor,  but  these  anti-jealousy  bugs 
certainly  have  n't  done  anything  for  me." 

"There  are  lots  of  things  in  this  world  that  a 
man  has  to  stand,"  Jerry  answered.  "And  I  don't 
think  your  case  even  now  is  half  as  hopeless  as  a 
great  many.  In  the  first  place,  the  chances  are 
that  you  're  entirely  wrong  about  Grace  being  jeal- 
ous of  Preston  De  Witt's  attentions  to  Virginia.  I 
don't  think  she  knows  about  them,  for  one  thing,  and 
what  you  don't  know  does  n't  make  you  jealous. 
In  the  next  place,  I  don't  think  she  'd  care  if  she  did 
know  about  them.  Grace  has  never  had  any  seri- 
ous use  for  Preston  except  to  torment  you,  and  I  'm 
pretty  sure  Preston  has  known  it  as  well  as  any  one. 
If  he  could  have  married  her,  he  would  have  been 
glad  to  do  it  because  she  's  attractive  and  will  have 
money;  but  that 's  all  there  is  to  it.  Now  if  you 
could  only  remember  this  and  behave  in  a  sane, 
reasonable  way,  everything  would  come  out  all 
right." 

"It 's  easy  for  you  to  say  so,"  said  Budd,  gloom- 
ily, "but  it 's  no  use.  You  can't  understand,  be- 
cause you  've  never  been  jealous." 

Jerry  winced,  but  said  nothing. 

"Just  loving  her  does  n't  seem  to  count  for  any- 
thing," the  boy  went  on,  "but  that 's  all  I  can  do. 


THE  BOOMERANG  233 

You  're  wrong  about  her  caring  for  me.  If  she 
cared  for  me,  she  would  n't  treat  me  the  way  she 
does.  The  best  thing  for  me  is  to  clear  out  and  not 
bother  her  any  more." 

"You  can  wait  till  to-morrow  at  least,"  said 
Jerry.  A  new  idea  had  begun  to  shape  itself  in  his 
mind. 

"I  suppose  I  could  do  that.  If  I  do,  will  you 
promise  to  order  me  away  on  a  trip?  I  don't  want 
mother  to  know." 

"I  '11  make  no  promises,"  Jerry  answered. 
"But  I  '11  expect  you  to  wait.  Come  in  to-morrow 
morning." 

Budd  rose  and  took  his  bag. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  asked. 

"I  don't  know  now,  but  I  '11  tell  you  to-morrow," 
Jerry  answered. 

At  the  door  the  boy  stopped  suddenly. 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  "why  should  you  think 
Preston  has  given  up  trying  to  marry  Grace?" 

"Have  n't  you  just  told  me  that  your  mother  says 
he  's  going  to  marry  Virginia?"  Jerry  answered 
testily. 

"But  why  should  he  want  to  marry  Virginia? 
She  's  nice,  but  she  has  n't  any  money." 

"Perhaps  he  does  n't  know  she  has  n't  any  money. 


234  THE  BOOMERANG 

Perhaps  he  's  in  love  with  her.  If  he  is  n't,  I  give 
it  up.  You  'd  better  leave  your  bag  here,"  he 
added. 

Budd  made  no  comment,  but  set  it  down  and 
went  out. 

As  the  door  closed  Jerry  pressed  his  fingers 
against  his  eyes.  They  ached  dully.  The  world, 
which  had  always  been  so  pleasant  and  reasonable, 
seemed  to  have  turned  mad.  As  Budd  suggested, 
why,  indeed,  should  De  Witt  want  to  marry  Vir- 
ginia? But,  again,  why  should  n't  he?  Was  n't 
the  girl  in  herself  the  most  desirable  thing  in  the 
universe?  No  sane  answer  to  anything  seemed 
possible.  He  roused  himself  presently.  His  was 
not  a  nature  to  give  way  to  despair.  He  must  make 
a  last  effort  to  get  Budd  straightened  out  if  only  to 
put  his  own  troubles  out  of  mind.  But  his  efforts 
to  think  were  abortive.  Always  that  slim  figure 
was  before  him  as  he  saw  her  sitting  with  her  back 
to  him  just  before  the  door  opened  and  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge  came  out  of  the  den.  With  a  sudden  effort 
of  the  will,  he  pressed  the  bell  for  Emile. 

The  door  opened,  and  Virginia  entered.  A 
tremor  ran  through  him.  Instead  of  the  nurse's 
uniform  that  she  usually  wore  she  was  dressed  in  a 
dark-blue,  tailored  suit — evidently  a  traveling  suit, 
for  like  Budd  she  came  in  with  a  traveling-bag. 


THE  BOOMERANG  235 

He  stared  at  her,  unaware  of  his  ferocious  aspect. 

"Good  morning,"  she  began,  then  stopped,  dis- 
concerted by  his  manner. 

"I  was  expecting  Emile,"  he  said.  "Did  you 
notice  if  my  car  was  outside?" 

"Yes,  it  is,"  she  answered,  her  perplexity  deep- 
ening. 

"I  've  got  to  make  a  call  before  office  hours,"  he 
announced  shortly. 

"Your  car  is  in  front  of  the  house,"  she  said, 
with  embarrassment.  "I  did  n't  see  you  again  last 
night,"  she  went  on.  "Mr.  Woodbridge  came  in 
after  every  one  had  gone  to  bed.  I  have  n't  had  a 
chance  to  speak  to  him.  Did  anything  go  wrong?" 

"Everything,"  Jerry  answered. 

She  stood  silent  and  ill  at  ease. 

"Are  you  going  away?"  he  demanded. 

"I  was  going  to  ask  you  if  you  had  any  objection 
to  my  going  away  for  a  few  days,"  she  answered; 
"Emile  says  he  's  willing  to  look  after  things." 

"Why,  of  course,  I  've  no  objection.  When  do 
you  want  to  go?" 

"The  train  leaves  at  eleven-twenty." 

"You  're  going  to  New  York,  too?" 

"Too?"  she  repeated,  with  a  mystified  look. 

"Budd  thought  of  taking  the  same  train. 
Did  n't  you  know  it?" 


236  THE  BOOMERANG 

She  shook  her  head.  She  was  silent  for  a  mo- 
ment, thinking. 

"You  're  not  angry  with  me?"  she  asked. 

"Why  should  I  be?" 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered,  with  a  note  of  dis- 
tress. "Only — "  She  broke  off  and  added: 
"Of  course  I  should  n't  think  of  asking  you  so  sud- 
denly like  this,  but  it 's  something  important.  I  'd 
like  to  tell  you  all  about  it,  but  I  'm  half  afraid." 
She  laughed  nervously. 

"Have  I  asked  you  to  tell  me?"  he  snapped. 
"I  've  no  right  to  pry  into  your  private  affairs. 
You  're  at  perfect  liberty  to  go  as  soon  as  you  like 
and  stay  as  long." 

"You  're  very  good,"  she  answered,  a  little 
crushed.  She  shot  him  a  look  of  wonder  and  re- 
proach, and  turned  to  go. 

He  called  after  her,  and  she  stopped. 

"You  'd  better  take  this,"  he  said.  He  held  out 
some  new  bills  that  he  had  taken  from  his  pocket. 

"But  I  don't  need  any  money." 

"It  belongs  to  you.     Your  month  is  up." 

She  came  back  dejectedly  and  took  the  money. 

"But  this  is  too  much,"  she  said,  protesting. 

"It 's  your  salary,"  he  answered.  "You  've 
earned  it." 

She  thanked  him  and  stood  uncertain.     She  had 


THE  BOOMERANG  237 

never  seen  him  like  this  before.  What  could  it 
mean? 

"Perhaps  I  don't  understand,"  she  faltered. 
"Do  you  expect  me  to  come  back?" 

"Why,  of  course  if  you  want  to.  This  place  will 
be  open  to  you — always"  he  went  on  with  a  tremor 
in  his  voice,  "and  whatever  it  is  that  is  calling  you 
away,  I  hope  it  will  bring  you  happiness." 

He  remained  standing  as  if  to  intimate  that  the 
interview  was  ended.  She  looked  at  him  non- 
plussed, then  turned  to  go  as  Emile  thrust  his  head 
in. 

"I  beg  pardon,"  he  said,  "but  Mr.  De  Witt  wish' 
to  speak  to  Miss  Xelva  on  the  telephone." 

"Will  you  excuse  me?"  she  said  in  some  con- 
fusion, and  went  out. 

Jerry  paced  the  length  of  the  room  and  back  with 
fierce  strides.  "Is  that  man  always  to  be  turning 
up?"  he  muttered  impatiently.  Then  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  telephone  message  and  her  trip  to  town 
burst  on  him.  Preston's  aunt,  his  nearest  relative, 
lived  in  New  York.  Virginia  was  going  on  to  be 
presented  to  her  exactly  as  was  to  be  expected.  It 
was  perfectly  clear,  but  why  had  n't  she  told  him? 
In  the  next  breath  he  was  demanding  of  himself 
why  in  heaven's  name  she  should.  He  had  noth- 
ing to  do  with  her  private  affairs.  He  was  a  doc- 


238  THE  BOOMERANG 

tor,  and  she  was  an  office  employee,  and  that  was 
all  there  was  to  it.  He  flung  open  the  door  that 
led  into  the  house,  passed  through  raging,  and  made 
for  his  motor-car,  which  stood  beside  the  curb. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

TEN  minutes  later  Jerry  was  ringing  the  Tylers' 
front  door-bell.  Once  for  all  he  was  going 
to  get  Budd's  tangle  straightened  out.  Just  how 
Grace  would  receive  him  was  a  question.  Now 
that  Budd  had  written  her  the  whole  story  of  the 
"treatments"  and  of  his  part  in  the  developments 
of  the  past  month,  she  had  a  right  to  be  angry  and 
undoubtedly  would  be.  Moreover,  Budd's  revela- 
tion had  lost  him  the  whip-hand,  which  only  the 
night  before  he  seemed  to  have  gained  so  com- 
pletely. It  was  a  bad  business,  but  he  must  face 
it. 

As  he  heard  the  door  open,  he  began  to  turn  over 
in  his  mind  what  he  would  do  if  she  refused  to  see 
him.  He  decided  that  the  best  thing  would  be  to 
give  her  no  chance  to  refuse. 

"Is  Mrs.  Tyler  in?"  he  asked  the  maid. 

The  maid  answered  that  she  had  gone  out  in  the 
automobile  about  ten  minutes  before. 

"I  'm  Dr.  Sumner,"  he  announced.  "I  have  an 
appointment  to  see  Miss  Tyler  professionally." 

The  girl  raised  no  question,  but  took  his  hat  and 

239 


240  THE  BOOMERANG 

led  him  up-stairs.  She  knocked,  opened  the  door, 
and  ushered  Jerry  into  a  little  sitting-room  where 
Grace  was  lying  on  a  sofa  with  an  unopened  book 
upon  her  lap.  She  looked  up  at  the  intruder  ap- 
parently without  surprise,  smiled  somewhat  wanly, 
and  held  out  her  hand. 

This  struck  Jerry  as  odd. 

"Ankle  pretty  bad?"  he  asked. 

She  nodded. 

"You  were  good  to  come  so  quickly.  Mother 
could  have  only  just  telephoned  you." 

So  she  had  telephoned  for  him;  but  why?  Why 
had  she  wanted  to  see  him?  Was  it  to  berate  him? 
Her  reception  of  him  indicated  nothing  of  that  sort. 

"I  was  just  starting  out,"  he  answered  truthfully. 
"It  only  took  a  minute  to  run  over.  You  got  away 
from  me  last  night,"  he  added  after  a  pause.  "I 
came  right  back  after  telephoning  De  Witt  and 
found  that  you  had  gone." 

"I  know,"  she  answered.  "My  ankle  hurt  so  I 
could  n't  bear  it.  And  after  you  had  gone,  I  re- 
membered that  mother  said  she  was  going  to  send 
the  car  for  me.  So  I  just  went." 

"I  dare  say  that  was  wise,"  he  said  dryly.  "The 
best  place  for  an  ankle  of  that  kind  is  bed.  But 
what  can  I  do  for  you  now?" 


"I  dare  say  that  was  wise,"  he  said  dryly 


THE  BOOMERANG  241 

She  avoided  his  look. 

"You  see,  I  felt  terribly  at  leaving  you  without 
an  explanation  after  I  had  sent  you  to  telephone 
Preston.  I  wanted  to  tell  you  I  was  sorry  and — 
well,  I  wanted  to  find  out  what  he  said  when  he 
came  and  found  I  'd  gone." 

"How  do  you  know  he  came?"  demanded  Jerry. 

"Well,  did  n't  he?" 

"When  I  telephoned  his  apartment,  they  said  he 
was  in  New  York." 

"But  he  came?" 

"Yes,  he  came,"  said  Jerry,  grimly. 

"Surely  not  to  see  Budd." 

"No,  not  to  see  Budd,"  he  assented.  "Have  n't 
you  called  him  up  this  morning?" 

"I  could  n't  get  him,"  she  answered.  "He  was 
out.  They  said  he  had  a  pressing  business  engage- 
ment?" 

Jerry  laughed  hoarsely,  and  their  eyes  met. 
Suddenly  he  realized  that  she  had  read  what  was 
in  his  mind. 

"You  don't  mean  that  he  9s  trying  to  make  a  hit 
with  that  Miss  Xelva?" 

"I  have  n't  mentioned  Miss  Xelva,"  Jerry  an- 
swered. 

"But  it's   so.     She's   very   attractive,"   Grace 


242  THE  BOOMERANG 

added  with  an  effort.  A  moment  later  her  lip 
trembled  and  burying  her  face  in  the  pillow,  she 
began  to  sob. 

"Perhaps  I  'd  better  have  a  look  at  the  ankle," 
Jerry  said  after  he  had  given  her  a  little  time;  "I 
know  how  the  pain  gets  on  one's  nerves.  I  don't 
suppose  you  slept  much." 

She  raised  her  head  with  an  effort,  smiled  dole- 
fully, and  began  to  mop  her  eyes. 

"I  'm  the  limit,  am  I  not?"  she  said  brokenly. 

"You  're  all  right,"  he  answered.  "That  is,  you 
would  be  if  you  let  me  take  charge  of  the  case." 

"How  do  you  mean?"  she  demanded,  but  he 
knew  by  the  way  she  avoided  meeting  his  eyes  that 
she  understood. 

"Let's  talk  plainly,"  he  said.  "I  know  all 
about  your  ankle  and  how  it  came  to  make  you  go 
home.  More  than  that,  I  've  got  a  cure  for  it  if 
you  want  to  be  cured." 

Her  color  rose,  and  she  shook  her  head. 

"You  don't  know  what  you  're  talking  about," 
she  said  fiercely. 

"I  know  perfectly  well  what  I  'm  talking  about," 
he  retorted.  "All  you  've  got  to  do  is  to  promise 
to  obey  instructions." 

"You're  a  very  extraordinary  man,"  she  ob- 
observed. 


THE  BOOMERANG  243 

"I  am,"  he  admitted,  "and  I  'm  going  to  tell  you 
some  very  extraordinary  things.  In  the  first  place, 
as  the  fortune-tellers  say,  you  're  going  to  receive 
a  letter  from  a  man  you  're  very  fond  of.  It 's 
probably  on  a  tray  in  the  pantry  at  this  moment, 
having  been  forgotten  by  the  maid  that  brought  up 
your  breakfast.  Now  when  it  comes,  I  want  you  to 
give  it  to  me  without  reading  it." 

"The  pieces  are  in  that  waste-basket,"  she  said 
in  an  icy  voice.  "If  you  wish  them,  take  them." 

"You  did  n't  read  it?" 

"Naturally." 

"You  knew  it  was  from  Budd?" 

"I  never  wish  to  see  or  speak  to  Budd  again!" 
she  answered  explosively.  "He 's  not  a  gentle- 


man." 


"I  know  what  Budd  did,"  he  said  quietly,  "and 
you  know  that  he  never  would  have  done  it  if  he 
had  n't  thought  you  were  suffering  terribly  from 
your  ankle." 

"That  made  it  all  the  worse,"  she  broke  out. 
"I  don't  want  any  one  to  be  sorry  for  me." 

"But  if  a  person  likes  you  he  can't  help  being 
sorry  for  you." 

"What!"  she  cried,  and  glared  at  him. 

"I  said  if  a  person  likes  you  he  can't  help  being 
sorry  for  you.  You  don't  seem  to  know  much 


244  THE  BOOMERANG 

about  men,"  he  went  on.  "You  think  that  a  man 
who  likes  one  woman  can't  like  another  at  the 
same  time,  but  that  is  n't  so.  Now  I  'm  going  to 
talk  to  you  like  an  uncle.  If  Budd  is  interested 
in  Miss  Xelva,  it 's  because  you  've  driven  him  to 
it.  Never  mind  how  I  've  found  it  out;  but  I  hap- 
pen to  know  that  he  's  cared  for  you  for  more  than 
a  year  and  you  Ve  treated  him  like  a  dog.  He  's 
sweet  and  simple  and  devoted,  and  because  he  was 
jealous,  as  any  man  would  be  of  a  girl  as  attractive 
as  you  are,  you  flaunted  De  Witt  at  him  and  made 
his  life  a  burden.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  when  a 
gentle,  sympathetic  woman  turned  up,  he  should 
try  to  find  some  consolation?  Just  how  far  it 's 
gone  I  don't  pretend  to  know,  but  I  can  guess  how 
far  it  will  go  if  you  don't  change  your  tactics.  If 
you  don't  want  to  get  him  back,  all  right.  But  if 
you  do,  and  I  believe  you  still  have  a  chance, 
you  've  got  to  take  him  as  he  is  and  let  his  loyalty 
and  devotion  make  up  for  his  being  a  little  exact- 
ing. You  see  he  's  very  young  and — well,  he  loves 
you  a  good  deal." 

"But  he  does  n't,"  she  answered  f alteringly. 
"He  told  me  so  himself  last  night." 

"Can't  you  understand  how  a  boy  like  Budd 
would  tell  you  that?"  he  demanded.  "He  thinks 
he  only  bores  you  and  that  his  attentions  make  you 


THE  BOOMERANG  245 

unhappy.  The  brave  and  generous  thing  for  him 
to  do  in  such  a  case  is  to  tell  you  not  to  worry  about 
him.  And  that 's  what  he  tried  to  do.  Of  course 
the  danger  is  that  he  '11  get  to  believe  it  himself 
and  ask  Miss  Xelva  to  marry  him." 

"You  think  he  has  n't  asked  her  yet?" 

"I  know  he  has  n't." 

Grace  looked  away  and  sat  very  still.  A 
struggle  was  going  on  within  her.  Suddenly  she 
turned  toward  him  and  held  out  her  hand.  He 
took  it. 

"Now  you  're  talking  sense,"  he  said,  smiling. 

"You  've  been  very  good,"  she  answered  meekly. 
"But  why  have  you  taken  all  this  trouble?" 

"Why  should  n't  I?"  he  answered.  "I  'm  fond 
of  Budd  and  I  'm  fond  of  you.  Besides,  there  is  n't 
any  too  much  happiness  in  this  old  world.  If  one 
can  straighten  out  a  tangle,  it 's  a  good  day's 
work." 

She  gazed  at  him  searchingly. 

"Somehow  you  've  changed,"  she  said,  "or  I  've 
misjudged  you.  I  should  n't  have  thought  you  'd 
understand  this  way." 

"Stuff!"  he  answered.  He  felt  his  color  rise, 
and  he  looked  away  to  avoid  her  gaze.  "I  've  got 
to  go  back  to  the  office,"  he  went  on.  "I  'm  late 
now.  Good-by  and  good  luck!  Remember  what 


246  THE  BOOMERANG 

I  tell  you.  Lose  no  time  in  proposing,  and  when 
you  've  married  him,  practise  appreciating  him. 
It 's  the  only  way  to  keep  things."  He  grasped  her 
hand  and  was  gone. 

Grace  heard  his  descending  footfall  on  the  stair, 
the  closing  of  the  front  door,  and  the  starting  of  his 
motor.  She  lay  back  on  the  couch,  her  eyes  closed, 
thinking.  A  strange  surmise  had  come  to  her  at 
the  moment  when  he  avoided  her  eyes.  Something 
certainly  had  happened  that  had  worked  a  subtle 
soul  change  in  Jerry.  It  was  n't  her  fancy.  He 
was  different.  Suddenly  she  found  it.  The  man 
was  in  love.  As  surmise  crystallized  into  convic- 
tion, she  started  up,  a  vague  suspicion  taking  pos- 
session of  her.  With  a  quick  movement  she 
reached  the  basket  where  she  had  deposited  the 
torn  scraps  of  Budd's  unread  letter  and  drew  it 
towards  her.  She  must  see  with  her  own  eyes  what 
Budd  had  really  said.  She  had  paste  and  tissue- 
paper  at  hand.  She  would  put  the  torn  pages  to- 
gether again.  She  would  make  sure  that  what 
Jerry  had  told  her  it  contained  was  the  truth.  To 
her  dismay  she  found  the  basket  empty.  The  maid 
must  have  removed  the  contents  when  she  did  the 
room.  She  hesitated  a  moment  and  then  rang  the 
bell. 

Julia,  the  housemaid,  came  promptly. 


THE  BOOMERANG  247 

"I  put  an  address  that  I  wanted  in  the  waste- 
basket,"  Grace  said.  "Where  do  you  empty  those 
things?" 

"Frank  burned  all  the  waste  paper  in  the  furnace 
this  morning,"  the  girl  answered.  "I  'm  sorry." 

"It's  of  no  great  importance,"  said  Grace  dis- 
ingenuously. When  she  was  alone  again  she  went 
to  the  telephone.  Her  impulse  was  to  call  up 
Budd  and  ask  him  to  come.  If  Budd  was  not  in- 
terested in  Miss  Xelva,  he  would  be  glad  to  come. 
If  he  were — well,  she  could  quickly  tell.  What 
perplexed  her  was  Jerry's  motive  for  going  to  the 
pains  he  had  taken  to  bring  Budd  and  herself  to- 
gether. A  man  who  had  just  fallen  in  love  was 
apt  to  be  occupied  with  his  own  affairs.  The 
psychology  of  men  in  love  was  one  of  the  things 
she  understood  best. 

Suddenly  the  full  truth  flashed  upon  her.  Jerry 
was  in  love  with  Virginia.  Whatever  might  be 
Budd's  real  attitude  toward  herself,  his  attentions 
to  Miss  Xelva  stood  in  the  doctor's  way.  He 
wanted  to  get  Budd  safely  side-tracked.  To  the 
circumstance  that  Preston  had  dropped  into  the 
party  to  see  Miss  Xelva  the  night  before  she  did 
not  attach  much  importance.  She  knew  Preston 
like  a  book.  He  was  not  the  kind  of  rival  that 
would  disturb  a  man  like  Jerry.  Jerry  would 


248  THE  BOOMERANG 

realize  that  his  cleverness  and  superficial  charm 
would  make  no  deep  appeal  to  a  girl  such  as  Vir- 
ginia appeared  to  be.  On  the  other  hand,  Budd, 
with  his  sweetness,  his  boyish  simplicity,  his  loy- 
alty, and  his  capacity  for  devotion,  might  very  well 
be  feared.  She  feared  herself  for  the  effect  those 
qualities  might  already  have  made  on  the  girl  and 
the  girl's  response  to  them.  It  was,  therefore,  pos- 
sible that  Jerry  as  an  interested  party  had  been 
grinding  his  own  ax  rather  than  hers.  She  must 
make  sure. 

She  called  the  familiar  number  and  in  tremu- 
lous tones  asked  if  Mr.  Budd  was  at  home. 

"Why,  no,  Miss,"  said  Hartley.  "Mr.  Budd  left 
the  house  a  few  minutes  ago.  I  believe  he  was 
going  to  New  York." 

"New  York?"  she  repeated. 

"That 's  what  I  understood.  Miss;  on  the  eleven- 
twenty." 

"Do  you  know  when  he  '11  be  back?" 

"He  did  n't  say,  Miss." 

She  hung  up,  baffled  for  the  moment.  Then  re- 
solving on  another  tack,  she  called  Preston's  office 
again.  She  would  summon  him.  She  knew  him 
so  well  that  she  was  sure  she  could  find  out  if  he 
was  giving  Mrs.  Woodbridge's  guest  what  she 
called  a  "serious  rush,"  and,  if  he  was,  what  he 


THE  BOOMERANG  249 

thought  of  Budd's  relation  to  the  girl.  The  next 
moment  she  recognized  Preston's  voice. 

"You  're  a  nice  person,"  she  began  banteringly. 
"Came  to  the  party  last  night  and  never  even 
danced  with  me.  What  do  you  think  of  your- 
self?" 

"Well,  I'll  be  hanged!"  said  Preston  in  frank 
amazement.  "How  did  you  know  I  was  there?" 

"I  know  everything,"  Grace  answered.  "Don't 
you  know  that  yet?" 

"Did  Budd  tell  you?" 

"No." 

"Who  did?" 

"Can't  tell  you;  heard  it  in  confidence.  Heard 
a  good  deal  more,  top." 

"That 's  nice,"  said  Preston,  recovering  his 
usual  equanimity. 

"If  you  '11  come  up  and  see  me  right  away,  I 
might  drop  you  a  helpful  hint  or  two." 

"But  I  can't  get  away." 

"Fudge!" 

"It 's  absolutely  impossible." 

"Got  a  date  with  Miss  Xelva?" 

"Quit  your  kiddin',"  answered  Preston,  imper- 
turbably. 

"But  I  'm  not  kidding;  I  hear  it 's  all  over  but 
the  wedding  march." 


250  THE  BOOMERANG 

"Your  intelligence  bureau  must  have  broken 
down,"  he  answered.  "Did  n't  you  know  she  was 
out  of  town  this  morning?" 

"Out  of  town?" 

"Sure.  You  ought  to  change  your  detectives. 
She  's  taking  the  eleven-twenty  for  New  York." 

Grace's  heart  stopped  beating. 

"That  must  be  quite  a  blow,"  she  managed  to 
say. ' 

"Yes,  it  is,"  he  answered.  "If  I  can,  I  '11  stop 
in  this  afternoon  rather  late." 

"All  right,"  she  said  mechanically,  and  put  the 
receiver  on  the  hook.  She  rose  unsteadily  from 
the  chair,  made  her  way  to  the  couch,  and  dropped 
miserably  upon  it.  Budd  and  Virginia  together 
on  their  way  to  town!  Her  suspicions  of  Jerry 
Sumner  were  confirmed.  That  letter  that  she  had 
destroyed  doubtless  said  only  what  Budd  had  told 
her  himself  the  night  before  with  perhaps  some 
lame  apology  for  his  outrageous  behavior.  He 
was  lost  to  her,  and,  anyway,  she  never  wanted  to 
lay  eyes  on  him  again.  He  was  a  cad  and  a  brute. 
She  buried  her  face  in  the  pillow  and  fell  to  sob- 
bing. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

ON  his  way  back  to  the  office  after  leaving 
Grace,  Jerry  allowed  himself  to  indulge  in 
certain  self-congratulatory  reflections.  By  a  'for- 
tunate chance  Grace  had  not  read  Budd's  letter,  and 
as  a  result  of  his  visit  the  troubled  course  of  their 
young  loves  seemed  likely  to  have  a  prompt  and 
happy  ending.  Of  Grace's  telephoning  he  was,  of 
course,  ignorant.  He  likewise  began  to  take  a 
brighter  view  of  his  own  personal  troubles. 

Fortunately  for  all  of  us,  hope  is  a  counselor 
that,  driven  out  the  door,  returns  by  the  window. 
Already  Jerry  began  to  find  reasons  why  the  thing 
he  dreaded  most  might  not  really  happen. 
Granted  that  Virginia  and  Preston  were  actually 
engaged  and  that  she  had  gone  on  to  New  York 
to  meet  his  aunt,  there  was  still  a  long  distance  be- 
tween that  and  their  getting  married.  Although 
Preston  was  doing  well  at  the  law,  his  income  was 
not  such  as  would  permit  him  to  marry  a  penniless 
girl  immediately.  Beyond  that  Jerry  had  a  con- 
viction that  Preston  did  not  yet  know  she  was  pen- 
niless. Preston  had  probably  made  his  deduc- 

251 


252  THE  BOOMERANG 

tions  from  her  manner  of  dress,  her  jewels,  and 
her  obvious  accustomedness  to  luxury,  as  well  as 
from  the  circumstance  that  she  was  Mrs.  Wood- 
bridge's  guest.  Virginia,  with  her  simplicity  and 
idealism,  would  probably  have  considered  it  de- 
grading even  to  think  about  money  at  such  a 
time,  and  while  she  must  have  told  him  that  she 
was  training  to  be  a  nurse,  that  need  not  have  im- 
plied that  it  was  from  the  necessity  of  making  a 
living. 

Jerry  therefore  figured  that  Preston  had  a  severe 
shock  waiting  for  him  when  the  truth  came  out. 
Furthermore,  something  told  him  that  a  nature  as 
fine  as  Virginia's  would  shrink  from  a  nature  like 
Preston's  when  she  had  time  enough  really  to  un- 
derstand it.  It  was  all  as  logical  as  two  and  two 
make  four  that  given  time  enough  the  Preston  De 
Witt  menace  would  disappear  in  thin  air.  The 
trouble  was,  however,  and  Jerry  realized  it  with 
dismay,  that  sober  reason  was  an  unstable  founda- 
tion. When  he  most  needed  it,  it  was  n't  there. 
All  his  wise  advice  to  Budd  became  meaningless 
words  when  that  wave  of  passionate,  unreasoning 
jealousy  swept  over  him.  If  ever  there  was  a 
case  of  "physician  heal  thyself,"  he  was  it.  If 
only  the  serum  had  been  a  real  thing,  he  would 
have  taken  a  gallon  of  it;  but  it  was  n't.  He  must 


THE  BOOMERANG  253 

fight  the  battle  unaided  as  other  men  had  to  fight 
it.  His  scorn  of  himself  was  intense  when  he 
realized  that  he  was  in  the  same  pitiable  category 
as  Budd,  but  scorn  of  oneself  was  not  a  remedy. 
All  he  could  do  was  to  work  and  wait  and  hope  and 
tell  himself  that  he  was  a  fool.  Of  these,  work 
was  the  most  satisfactory.  The  thought  that  his 
efforts  in  Budd's  behalf  at  last  promised  to  be  suc- 
cessful was  distinctly  comforting. 

The  first  thing  he  did  when  he  settled  himself  at 
his  desk  was  to  call  up  Budd.  He  would  get 
hold  of  the  boy  and  send  him  to  Grace  at  once. 
The  word  that  he  received  from  Hartley  was,  of 
course,  the  same  that  Grace  had  received  but  a  few 
minutes  before.  Confirming  it,  he  noted  that 
Budd's  bag  had  disappeared.  He  uttered  an  ex- 
clamation of  annoyance  and  pressed  the  bell. 

"Bring  Stone  in  if  he  's  out  there,"  he  said  as 
Emile  appeared. 

"Bien,  Monsieur,"  said  the  man.  He  laid  two 
notes  upon  the  desk  and  withdrew. 

Jerry  took  one  of  the  envelops  and  tore  it  open. 
It  contained  a  line  from  Budd. 

"I  can't  stand  this  town  any  longer,"  he  wrote. 
"I  'm  taking  the  11:20.  Will  put  up  at  the  Har- 
vard Club." 

Jerry  reached  for  a  telegraph  blank. 


254  THE  BOOMERANG 

"Take  next  train  back,"  he  wrote.  "Call  me 
up  when  you  arrive."  Then  he  took  the  other  en- 
velop, and  started  as  he  saw  that  the  handwriting 
was  Virginia's. 

At  this  moment  Stone  came  in  with  his  arm  in  a 
sling.  Jerry  nodded  to  him  vacantly,  and  ran  his 
eye  over  the  contents.  It  read: 

You  have  been  so  good  to  me  that  I  hardly  know  how 
to  say  what  I  feel  I  ought  to  say.  In  spite  of  what  I  told 
you  this  morning  I  don't  think  I  shall  come  back  to  the 
office.  Please  always  remember  that  your  goodness  and 
patience  with  me  have  been  the  best  things  in  my  life.  I 
wish  that  I  could  repay  you.  If  you  want  me  to  get  you 
in  New  York  a  really  competent  nurse  for  the  office,  I 
should  be  glad  to  try. 

Always  yours  sincerely, 

VIRGINIA  XELVA. 

He  thrust  the  sheet  of  paper  in  his  pocket  and 
turned  to  the  machinist. 

"Well,  Stone,"  he  said,  "how  is  the  arm  this 
morning?"  There  was  a  strange  mist  before  his 
eyes,  in  which  the  room  and  the  patient  swam  un- 
steadily. He  gripped  the  arm  of  his  chair  till  it 
began  to  clear. 

"Better,  Doctor,"  Stone  answered.  "I  had  a 
good  night." 

"We  '11  have  a  look  at  it,"  said  Jerry.     He  rose 


THE  BOOMERANG  255 

and  began  unfastening  the  bandages.  The  arm 
was  doing  well.  He  changed  the  dressing  and  sent 
the  man  away. 

After  Stone  came  a  woman  with  neuralgia,  one 
of  Mrs.  Woodbridge's  protegees,  then  a  boy  with  a 
cold,  then  others.  It  was  after  twelve  when  Emile 
announced  that  the  waiting-room  was  empty. 
Jerry  lighted  a  cigarette  that  he  immediately  threw 
away  and,  taking  Virginia's  note  from  his  pocket, 
read  it  twice. 

It  was  the  kind  of  note  a  girl  going  away  with 
the  intention  of  getting  married  would  be  apt  to 
write  except  for  the  phrase,  "Your  goodness  and 
patience  with  me  have  been  the  best  things  in  my 
life."  If  Virginia  felt  that  way  toward  him  would 
she  go  off  without  telling  him  the  truth?  It  hardly 
seemed  likely,  though,  of  course,  Preston  might 
have  insisted  on  absolute  secrecy  for  the  present. 
Suddenly  a  new  theory  burst  on  him.  It  was  wild, 
yet  he  grasped  at  it  as  the  drowning  man  at  the 
straw.  Preston  had  found  out  about  her  having 
no  money  and  had  back-pedalled.  The  girl, 
cruelly  hurt,  was  leaving  town  for  the  same  reason 
that  Budd  was  leaving.  But,  then,  how  could  this 
be  made  to  square  with  what  Mrs.  Woodbridge  had 
told  Budd,  or  with  the  match-maker's  smile  with 
which  she  had  come  out  of  the  den  the  night  be- 


256  THE  BOOMERANG 

fore?  If  Preston  had  confided  the  news  of  his  en- 
gagement to  Mrs.  Woodbridge  he  could  n't  have 
backed  out  so  abruptly  no  matter  what  he  had 
found  out.  He  would  have  used  a  more  delicate 
method.  Preston  was  no  bungler.  In  the  end 
Jerry  derived  little  comfort  from  the  note.  He 
was  putting  it  back  in  his  pocket  when  a  step  be- 
hind him  made  him  start,  and  turning,  he  saw  his 
father. 

"I  hope  you  're  lunching  at  home,"  said  the 
colonel,  with  a  smile. 

"I  was  expecting  to,"  Jerry  answered.     "Why?" 

"Bruce  Gordon  has  just  telephoned  that  he  's  in 
town  and  will  lunch  with  us.  Of  course  he  wants 
to  talk  hospital  with  you.  You  remember  him, 
don't  you?" 

Jerry  nodded. 

"I  have  n't  seen  him  since  I  was  a  kid.  I  used 
to  be  afraid  of  him." 

The  colonel  laughed. 

"His  bark  is  worse  than  his  bite." 

"They  don't  seem  to  think  so  in  New  York," 
said  Jerry. 

"A  man  who  has  made  millions  does  n't  have 
to  have  good  manners,"  said  the  colonel.  "More- 
over, I  suppose  one  can't  make  money  without  also 
making  enemies,  but  he  's  been  my  friend  for  fifty 


THE  BOOMERANG  257 

years,  and  I  want  him  to  be  yours.  Now  in  dis- 
cussing this  hospital  business,"  the  colonel  went 
on,  "speak  your  mind  and  disagree  with  him  if 
you  think  his  ideas  are  wrong.  He  does  n't  get  on 
with  people  who  give  way  to  him." 

"I  '11  do  my  best,"  said  Jerry. 

Marion  was  lunching  with  the  Ludlows,  and  the 
three  men  sat  down  together.  Contrary  to  his  ex- 
pectations, Jerry  found  himself  drawn  to  the  finan- 
cier. It  was  possible  that  under  the  influence  of 
his  boyhood's  associations  he  was  more  human  and 
kindly  than  usual,  but  at  all  events  Jerry  liked 
him.  He  was  a  huge  man,  nearly  six  feet  four.  A 
little  stoop  of  the  shoulders  and  a  tinge  of  gray  in 
his  hair  indicated  that  he  was  no  longer  young, 
but  the  vigor  of  his  voice  and  manner  was  unim- 
paired. As  the  meal  progressed,  the  twinkle  in 
his  cold,  piercing  eyes  kindled  oftener.  He 
seemed  to  be  laying  aside  business  cares  and  to 
be  enjoying  himself. 

The  meal  progressed,  and  he  made  no  mention 
of  the  hospital.  Neither  of  the  Sumners  intro- 
duced the  subject,  and  they  went  into  the  library 
for  coffee.  As  Gordon  lighted  his  cigar,  he  settled 
himself  in  his  chair  and  turned  to  the  colonel. 

"We  're  going  to  get  down  to  business  now," 
thought  Jerry. 


258  THE  BOOMERANG 

There  was  a  silence  during  which  the  financier 
puffed  vigorously  at  his  cigar.  Then  with  harsh 
abruptness  he  said: 

"Addison,  you  remember  my  sister  Amy?" 

"Naturally." 

Jerry  saw  an  expression  of  amazement  cross  his 
father's  face. 

"I  don't  think  I  ever  was  quite  fair  to  her,"  Gor- 
don went  on  as  if  he  were  discussing  the  weather. 
"I  wanted  her  to  marry  you.  But  she  did  n't  want 
to  marry  you,  and  you  did  n't  want  to  marry  her, 
and  I  suppose  you  each  had  something  to  say  about 


it." 


"We  were  more  like  brother  and  sister,"  said 
the  colonel. 

"You  were  a  better  brother  to  her  than  I  was," 
said  Gordon.  "But  that  can't  be  changed  now. 
She  went  her  way,  and  I  went  mine.  I  suppose  I 
should  have  forgiven  her  just  as  mother  did  if  she 
hadn't  died."  He  broke  off,  and  his  eyes  met 
Colonel  Sumner's.  "That  was  a  good  while  ago, 
Addison." 

"It  was,"  said  the  colonel. 

"We  're  pretty  close  to  being  through,"  Gordon 
went  on.  "How  quick  it  all  passes!  Yesterday 
we  were  like  this," — he  nodded  toward  Jerry, — 
"to-day  we  're  what  we  are — lonely  old  men — and 


THE  BOOMERANG  259 

to-morrow  we  quit.  Do  you  ever  stop  to  wonder 
what  it 's  all  about?" 

"The  trouble  with  you,  Bruce,"  said  the  colonel, 
"is  that  you  ought  to  have  married." 

"So  I  ought  to  have  bought  steel  at  eight  and  a 
half,  but  I  did  n't.  You  can't  play  the  game  by 
thinking  what  you  ought  to  have  done,  Addison.  I 
have  n't  a  son,  and  thinking  about  it  won't  give  me 
one;  so  I  don't  think  about  it." 

"Still,"  said  the  colonel,  consolingly,  "there  are 
other  compensating  things." 

"Perhaps,"  said  the  financier.  "But  you  've 
had  all  the  best  of  it,  Addison ;  you  were  the  lucky 
one.  Don't  forget  that.  If  I  had  my  life  to  live 
over,  I  suppose  I  'd  live  it  just  as  I  have  and  regret 
at  the  end  of  it  that  I  had  n't  stayed  in  Elmford 
and  married  like  you,  and  that 's  all  you  can  say 
about  it." 

"Still,  it  must  give  you  a  great  deal  of  satisfac- 
tion," said  the  colonel,  "to  do  all  that  you  are  able 
to  do  for  other  people.  Think  of  this  hospital 
you  're  giving.  Think  of  the  thousands  it  will 
help." 

Gordon  made  no  answer.  He  struck  another 
match  and  relighted  his  cigar. 

"Jerry,"  he  said  shortly,  "do  you  know  a  young 
man  in  Grant's  office  named  De  Witt?" 


260  THE  BOOMERANG 

"I  know  him,"  said  Jerry. 

"Bright  fellow,  is  n't  he?" 

"Every  one  says  so." 

"I  wish  you  'd  get  him  on  the  telephone  for  me. 
I  want  to  speak  to  him." 

"Of  course,"  said  Jerry,  and  rose. 

"I  think  I  might  as  well  tell  you,"  Gordon  went 
on  to  the  colonel,  "that  having  no  family  of  my 
own,  I  'm  on  the  way  ta/acquiring  one." 

The  colonel  gazed  at  him,  open-mouthed. 

"You  mean  you  're  going  to  get  married?" 

"No,"  said  Gordon,  laughing;  "not  so  bad  as 
that.  I  'm  contemplating  a  form  of  adoption." 

"Not  Preston  De  Witt?"  exclaimed  the  colonel. 

"I  don't  know.  It  might  come  to  that — no  one 
ever  knows."  He  smiled  grimly. 

Jerry  stopped  on  his  way  to  the  door,  his  eyes 
riveted  on  the  financier. 

"Just  what  do  you  mean?"  the  colonel  de- 
manded. 

"It  seems  that  Amy  had  a  child,"  Gordon  an- 
swered. "She  died  soon  after  it  was  born.  Now 
the  father  is  dead,  and  the  child  has  turned  up, 
and  I  'm  fool  enough  at  the  age  of  sixty-two  to 
embark  upon  the  career  of  uncle,  that  is,  if  it  de- 
cides to  accept  me.  Apparently  it 's  in  some  doubt 
about  it." 


THE  BOOMERANG  261 

"Have  you  seen  it?" 

"That 's  what  I  'm  here  for." 

"Is  Amy's  child  in  Elmford?" 

"That 's  what  Grant  tells  me.  There  seems  to 
be  no  reason  to  doubt  it.  It 's  a  young  person  by 
the  name  of  Virginia  Xelva." 

"Virginia  Xelva!"  cried  the  colonel,  aghast. 
"She 's  here  in  this  house — a  nurse  in  Jerry's 
office!" 

Gordon  looked  at  him  sharply.  He  was  not  in 
the  habit  of  showing  surprise. 

"I  thought  she  was  stopping  with  Caroline  Wood- 
bridge." 

"She  is,  but  she  's  with  Jerry  during  office  hours. 
To  think  of  Amy's  daughter  being  in  my  home  and 
I  not  knowing  it!" 

Gordon  turned  to  Jerry,  who  was  standing 
dumbly  in  the  doorway. 

"May  I  see  her?"  he  asked. 

"She  's  in  New  York,"  Jerry  answered.  "She 
went  this  morning  on  the  eleven-twenty." 

Gordon  uttered  an  impatient  ejaculation. 

"I  wired  Grant's  office  this  morning  not  to  send 
her  on.  Get  me  De  Witt  at  once!" 

Jerry  went  out  to  the  telephone.  From  the  hall 
he  heard  the  voices  of  the  two  men.  Gordon  was 
asking  the  colonel  if  he  had  seen  her  and  what  sort 


262  THE  BOOMERANG 

of  girl  she  was.  But  the  voices  sounded  thin 
and  far  away.  His  heart  was  beating  like  a  trip- 
hammer. It  was  clear  now  why  Mrs.  Woodbridge 
had  taken  such  a  fancy  to  Virginia,  and  why  Pres- 
ton had  been  making  love  to  her.  For  a  fort- 
night he  had  known  that  she  was  Bruce  Gordon's 
niece.  Under  Grant's  direction  he  had  doubtless 
been  investigating  the  case  for  Mr.  Gordon  and  sup- 
plying the  proofs  of  Virginia's  identity.  For  a 
fortnight  he  had  known  that  Virginia  was  a  great 
heiress.  The  girl,  touched  and  flattered  by  his 
attentions,  had  been  swept  off  her  feet.  Preston 
had  her  and  would  never  let  go  his  hold.  As 
Jerry's  last  hope  snapped,  a  blind  rage  swept  him. 
He  understood  now  how  Budd  had  felt.  If  he 
could  have  clasped  his  fingers  around  Preston's 
throat  he  would  have  committed  murder  joyously. 
But  Preston's  throat  not  being  in  his  clasp,  he  called 
Grant's  office  and  told  the  clerk  who  answered  that 
Mr.  Gordon  wished  to  speak  with  Mr.  De  Witt.  He 
went  back  to  the  library,  reported  that  De  Witt  was 
on  the  wire  and  then,  seizing  his  hat,  went  hur- 
riedly out. 


PART  VI 


CHAPTER  XX 

AS  Jerry  came  out  of  the  house  depressed  with 
the  knowledge  that  Virginia  was  Bruce  Gor- 
don's niece  and  presumable  heir  and  that  Preston 
De  Witt  had  been  aware  of  these  facts  for  a  fort- 
night, he  encountered  the  postman  coming  up  the 
steps. 

"Shall  I  put  your  mail  in  the  box  or  will  you 
take  it?"  the  man  asked. 

"I'll  take  it,"  Jerry  answered.  The  little 
packet  apparently  consisted  of  bills  and  advertis- 
ing circulars.  He  was  about  to  thrust  it  into  his 
pocket  when  his  eye  caught  a  familiar  handwrit- 
ing. It  was  on  an  envelop  that  bore  the  printed 
name  of  a  New  York  hotel.  Mechanically  he  tore 
it  open  and  began  to  read : 

DEAR  OLD  JERRY: 

Here  I  am  on  what  they  call  the  Great  White  Way, 
getting  my  appetite  back  after  the  trip  across  "the  pond." 
The  pater  and  I  had  another  little  disagreement,  and  the 
result  is  that  I  Ve  been  shipped  out  to  your  wild  and 
woolly  Occident.  What  I  now  have  to  propose  is  this, 
that  we  have  a  month  in  Wyoming  together  after  elk  and 

265 


266  THE  BOOMERANG 

mountain  sheep.  You  can't  get  out  of  it  with  a  tele- 
graphic no,  for  I  'm  coming  Thursday  to  your  bucolic 
Elmford  to  debate  the  matter  in  person  and  carry  you 
off.  We  all  lamented  your  absence  at  the  moor,  but  the 
birds  were  scarce  and  sport  poor,  so  your  virtue  had  the 
reward  of  not  missing  much.  This  ought  to  reach  you 
Wednesday.  That  is  to-morrow,  and  the  next  day  I  shall 
see  you.  You  might  wire  me  that  you  are  home.  So  no 
more  at  present  from 

Yours  faithfully, 

MARCHY. 

"P.  S.     I  saw  Mildway  just  before  sailing,  and  he  sent 
a  lot  of  messages  which  I  have  forgotten." 

"By  Jove!"  Jerry  muttered,  "I  '11  go  to  Wyom- 
ing!" He  got  into  his  car  and  drove  to  the  tele- 
graph-office, where  he  wired  Marchbanks  that  he 
would  meet  him  Thursday  morning  on  the  train 
leaving  New  York  at  ten.  Then  he  headed  over 
the  bridge  and  made  his  way  to  the  open  country. 
He  had  no  idea  where  he  was  going.  He  only 
wanted  to  get  away  from  everything.  Presently 
he  was  tearing  over  the  hills  in  violation  of  all 
known  speed  laws. 

In  the  meanwhile  Budd  and  Virginia  had  been 
adventuring  into  the  unknown,  separately. 

By  the  time  Budd  reached  the  station  that  morn- 
ing, the  train  was  already  coming  in.  He  dashed 


THE  BOOMERANG  267 

up  to  the  ticket  window,  got  his  ticket,  and  was 
starting  for  the  train  when  he  saw  Virginia  on  the 
platform  waiting  to  board  the  parlor  car.  Having 
no  idea  of  her  intentions,  he  jumped  at  the  conclu- 
sion that  Jerry  had  discovered  his  departure  and 
had  hastily  despatched  her  on  his  trail.  Just  how 
Jerry  could  have  found  out  that  he  was  not  waiting 
till  the  next  day  in  time  to  get  Miss  Xelva  aboard 
the  eleven-twenty  he  did  not  stop  to  think  out.  As 
a  matter  of  fact  Budd  was  too  agitated  to  think  out 
anything.  By  this  time  existence  had  resolved  it- 
self into  mere  consciousness  of  torment.  What  he 
wanted  he  could  never  have.  His  was  a  blighted 
existence.  All  that  he  could  expect  was  liberty  to 
crawl  away  like  a  wounded  beast  and  wait  forty 
or  fifty  years  for  death  to  bring  release,  and  now 
even  this  modest  privilege  was  about  to  be  denied 
him. 

He  had  been  intending  to  crawl  as  far  as  the 
Grand  Central  Station  in  a  Pullman  chair,  but  when 
he  saw  Virginia  boarding  the  Pullman,  he  drew 
back  till  she  was  out  of  sight  and  then  hurriedly 
made  his  way  to  one  of  the  day-coaches.  On 
reaching  New  York  he  managed  to  be  the  first  per- 
son to  leave  the  forward  car  and  bolted  for  Van- 
derbilt  Avenue  at  a  speed  likely  to  make  fe- 
male pursuit  fruitless.  At  Forty-Fourth  Street 


268  THE  BOOMERANG 

he  turned  west  and  three  minutes  later  was  in  a 
position  of  relative  safety  within  the  portals  of  his 
club.  As  he  asked  for  a  room  the  clerk  handed 
him  Jerry's  telegram. 

Budd's  impulse  was  to  tear  the  sheet  of  yel- 
low paper  into  bits  and  let  it  go  at  that.  Taking 
the  first  train  back  was  unthinkable.  He  wanted 
no  more  advice  or  treatment.  However,  when  he 
had  gone  to  his  room  he  decided  that  he  owed 
something  to  Jerry  and  finally  called  him  up  on  the 
telephone.  The  call  reached  Jerry  as  he  was  at- 
tending to  the  last  patient  of  the  morning,  just  be- 
fore his  father  had  come  in  with  the  announcement 
that  Bruce  Gordon  was  coming  to  lunch. 

"I  just  got  your  telegram,"  Budd  began.  "Why 
do  you  want  me  to  take  the  next  train  back?" 

"Because  I  thought  you  might  like  to  marry  a 
certain  lady,"  Jerry  answered. 

"But  don't  you  understand  that 's  all  off?"  Budd 
stammered. 

"Look  here,"  said  Jerry.  "I  have  n't  time  for 
foolishness.  I  've  just  seen  her,  and  my  advice  is 
to  come  back  at  once." 

"But  has  she  forgiven  me  for  doing  what  I  did 
last  night?" 

"She  has." 


THE  BOOMERANG  269 

"  But  in  my  letter  I  told  her  I  was  going  away 
and  would  n't  bother  her  any  more." 

"Can't  you  understand,"  said  Jerry,  with  some 
exasperation,  "that  she  wants  to  be  bothered?  She 
found  that  out  as  soon  as  she  thought  you  were  in- 
terested in  some  one  else." 

"Did  you  tell  her  I  was  n't?" 

"I  did,  but  I  said  you  very  well  might  be  unless 
she  married  you  in  the  course  of  the  week." 

"Then  you  think  I  really  ought  to  come  back?" 

"If  you  don't,  you  ought  to  be  locked  up." 

"But  if  I  go  to  see  her  how  do  you  think  I  ought 
to  begin?" 

There  was  no  answer.  A  click  at  the  other  end 
of  the  wire  told  him  that  Jerry  had  hung  up.  He 
considered  calling  him  again,  but  thought  better 
of  it.  Jerry  evidently  meant  that  he  would  have  to 
work  that  out  for  himself. 

Budd  found  the  news  he  had  just  received  hard 
to  appreciate.  After  a  certain  point  a  starving 
man  feels  no  hunger.  Budd  was  too  numb  for  ela- 
tion. However,  he  knew  he  must  go  back.  He 
proceeded  down  to  the  office,  consulted  a  time-table, 
and  found  that  he  could  get  a  train  at  four-ten. 
Then  he  gave  up  his  room  and  ordered  himself 
some  lunch.  A  little  before  four  he  called  a  taxi 


270  THE  BOOMERANG 

and  started  for  the  station.  Feeling  that  he  was 
now  immune  from  pursuit,  he  bought  a  parlor-car 
seat,  and  with  ten  minutes  to  spare  he  sauntered 
over  to  the  telegraph-office  and  sent  a  wire  to  Hart- 
ley asking  him  to  have  a  car  meet  him  at  Elmford. 
He  decided  that  on  arriving  he  would  go  at  once 
to  Grace's.  Then  he  bought  the  evening  papers 
and  went  aboard  the  train.  His  seat  was  near  the 
end.  He  glanced  down  the  lines  of  passengers, 
saw  no  one  that  he  knew,  and  sat  down.  The  train 
started  and  was  gathering  headway  when  he 
glanced  up  from  his  paper  and  saw  the  porter  with 
a  hand-bag  coming  down  the  aisle,  followed  by 
Virginia.  The  next  moment  she  dropped  into  the 
empty  chair  beside  him. 

"Why,  Budd!"  she  exclaimed.  "Isn't  this 
funny?" 

"Yes,  it  is,"  said  Budd,  without  enthusiasm. 

"I  looked  for  you  this  morning  on  the  eleven- 
twenty,"  she  went  on.  "When  did  you  come  to 
New  York?" 

"How  did  you  know  I  was  coming?"  he  an- 
swered evasively. 

"Dr.  Sumner  told  me." 

He  glanced  at  her  suspiciously,  but  her  manner 
was  frank.  She  seemed  to  have  nothing  to  con- 
ceal. 


THE  BOOMERANG  271 

"He  did  n't  tell  you  to  come  along  and  kind  of 
watch  me?"  he  demanded. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Why,  no,"  she  answered.  "Why  should  he? 
I  thought  everything  was  going  very  well  with 
you." 

"Well,  it  is  now,  but  it  had  n't  been." 

"You  mean  you  had  another  set-back?" 

He  nodded. 

"Well,  I  'm  sure  that  it  will  all  be  all  right,"  she 
said,  smiling.  "I  had  an  idea  that  you  had  come  to 
buy  something  at  the  jeweler's." 

He  colored. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  in  New  York?"  he 
demanded. 

"Just  business,"  she  answered.  "And  when  I 
got  here  I  found  that  I  had  come  on  for  nothing 
and  had  to  come  right  back." 

"It  had  n't  anything  to  do  with  me?" 

"Nothing.  It  will  be  funny  not  to  be  getting 
up  at  six  o'clock  to-morrow  morning  and  going 
through  our  training,"  she  went  on.  "Do  you 
think  you  '11  miss  it?" 

He  shook  his  head. 

"I  think  I  shall,"  she  said.  "However,  your 
mother  has  asked  me  to  stop  on  for  a  few  days 
longer." 


272  THE  BOOMERANG 

"Do  you  think  you  '11  miss  your  work  at  the 
doctor's?"  he  asked. 

It  was  Virginia's  turn  to  be  surprised. 

"How  did  you  know  that  I  'd  given  it  up?"  she 
demanded. 

"Why,  I  don't  know,"  he  stammered.  "I  just 
supposed  naturally — " 

She  looked  confused  and  opened  her  paper,  and 
Budd  did  likewise. 

Conversation  languished  after  that.  Budd  read 
the  front-page  headlines  three  times  without  any 
definite  impression  of  the  day's  news  till  Virginia 
swung  her  chair  around  and  left  him  to  undisturbed 
thought.  Her  appearance  had  created  new  com- 
plications. He  could  hardly  go  off  in  his  car  and 
leave  her  standing  on  the  platform  to  hunt  for  a 
taxi  when  she  was  staying  in  his  house.  Yet  he 
grudged  the  time  it  would  take.  It  would  be  late 
enough  before  he  could  reach  Grace's  if  he  went 
direct  from  the  station.  However,  there  was  noth- 
ing else  to  do.  This  settled,  he  gave  himself  up  to 
the  embarrassing  problem  of  meeting  Grace.  As 
her  last  words  to  him  had  expressed  the  desire  of 
never  seeing  him  again,  he  could  hardly  say  he 
had  just  dropped  in  to  see  how  her  ankle  was, 
neither  could  he  mention  the  doctor's  intervention. 
He  knit  his  brows  in  perplexity,  but  by  the  time 


THE  BOOMERANG  273 

the  train  was  drawing  near  Elmford  he  had  in- 
vented an  opening  that  seemed  satisfactory. 

Grace  could  be  counted  on  to  greet  him  with  a 
chilly  "How  do  you  do?"  After  this  he  would  be- 
gin: "I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about  last  night, 
Grace.  As  I  told  you  in  my  letter  I  'm  sorry  that 
I  forgot  myself  and  acted  as  no  gentleman  should." 

There  was  nothing  she  could  object  to  in  this. 
Then  he  would  go  on  more  boldly.  "I  can't  keep 
my  promise  not  to  bother  you  again.  It  means  too 
much  to  me.  Never  since  that  afternoon  when  you 
let  me  know  you  cared  for  me  have  I  ever  thought 
of  any  one  else.  If  I  could  only  make  you  un- 
derstand that  everything  I  am,  or  hope  to  be,  be- 
longs to  you,  that  all  my  happiness  is  just  in  doing 
for  you  and  caring  for  you  and  loving  you,  I  would 
die  happy.  I  know  I  have  bothered  you  and  been 
jealous  without  any  real  reason  and  I  'm  sorry,  for 
I  want  you  always  to  have  your  own  friends  and 
that  sort  of  thing,  but  I  believe  now  that  if  you 
will  only  let  things  be  as  they  were  before  I  sha'n't 
be  jealous  and  unreasonable  any  more.  I  have 
had  my  lesson,  Grace,  and  I  want  now  to  care  for 
you  in  the  way  you  want  me  to.  Will  you  give  me 
another  chance?" 

At  this,  he  pictured  Grace  softening  and  her  won- 
derful smile  breaking  out.  "I  '11  try  to  forgive 


274  THE  BOOMERANG 

you,  Budd,  for  last  night,"  she  would  say. 
"You  've  made  me  very  unhappy,  but— 

And  then  would  come  his  opportunity. 

He  was  aroused  by  the  train  stopping  at  Elm- 
ford. 

"I  Ve  ordered  the  car  to  be  here,"  he  said  to 
Virginia.  "I  '11  run  you  home,  but  we  '11  have  to 
hurry  for  I  've  got  some  business  to  attend  to 
afterwards." 

"But  I  can  get  a  taxi,"  she  urged. 

He  shook  his  head,  insisted  on  taking  her  little 
bag,  and  led  the  way  out.  As  he  stepped  down 
upon  the  platform  he  stopped  short,  and  a  thrill 
ran  through  him.  He  saw  Mrs.  Tyler  getting  off 
the  car  ahead.  Her  mother  had  been  upon  the 
same  train.  It  was  an  omen.  His  impulse  was 
to  rush  up  to  her,  but  he  checked  himself,  realiz- 
ing that  it  would  consume  precious  moments.  Just 
then  Hunter,  his  mother's  chauffeur,  appeared  and 
took  the  bags,  and  at  the  same  moment  he  saw  Mrs. 
Tyler's  chauffeur  making  his  way  to  Mrs.  Tyler. 
She  was  being  looked  out  for,  so  he  turned  sharply 
and,  beckoning  to  Virginia,  followed  Hunter  to  the 
automobile. 

Fifteen  minutes  later,  having  left  Virginia  at  his 
mother's  house,  the  car  drew  up  in  front  of  the 


THE  BOOMERANG  275 

Tylers'.  He  looked  nervously  at  his  watch.  It 
was  a  quarter  past  six.  The  question  now  was 
whether  Grace  would  be  home.  He  rang  the  bell. 
As  the  maid  opened  the  door,  he  heard  the  rustle 
of  a  woman's  dress  and  distinctly  saw  Grace  cross 
the  hall  and  enter  the  library.  She  wore  a  hat 
and  had  evidently  just  come  in. 

"Please  tell  Miss  Tyler  that  Mr.  Woodbridge 
wishes  to  see  her,"  he  said  tremulously. 

The  maid,  who  was  new,  gazed  at  him  mildly 
and  withdrew. 

He  began  running  over  the  discourse  that  he 
had  prepared.  "I  wanted  to  speak  to  you  about 
last  night.  As  I  told  you  in  my  letter — "  he  re- 
peated. The  lump  in  his  throat  was  making  articu- 
lation difficult.  He  saw  the  maid  reappear  in  the 
hall  and  come  toward  him.  He  braced  himself. 
In  another  moment  he  would  be  in  the  library  face 
to  face  with  all  that  made  life  worth  living. 

The  maid  reached  him. 

"Miss  Tyler  says  she  is  sorry,  but  she  has  just 
come  from  the  station  where  she  was  meeting  her 
mother,  and  begs  to  be  excused." 

Unaware  that  she  had  uttered  the  mandates  of 
life  and  death,  the  maid  passed  him  and  opened 
the  door. 


276  THE  BOOMERANG 

Mechanically  he  passed  out,  his  hat  still  in  his 
hand.  A  "Hello,  Budd,"  sounded  in  his  ears,  and 
he  saw  Preston  De  Witt  mounting  the  steps. 

"Hello,"  he  muttered,  and  went  on  to  the  wait- 
ing car.  The  chauffeur  pressed  the  self-starter, 
hut  the  engine  failed  to  start.  Budd  saw  the 
front  door  open  and  Preston  go  in. 

"Something  is  the  matter  with  the  battery,"  the 
chauffeur  announced  after  another  effort.  "I 
guess  I  '11  have  to  crank."  Three  minutes  elapsed 
before  he  had  the  engine  going.  Preston  still  re- 
mained in  the  house.  Then  the  car  started,  and 
they  moved  down  the  street.  As  they  turned  the 
corner  two  blocks  beyond,  Budd  looked  back,  but 
saw  no  sign  of  Preston.  Grace  had  received  him. 
There  was  no  doubt  about  it.  Meeting  her  mother 
at  the  station  was  not  a  reason  for  sending  him 
away.  Suddenly  it  flashed  upon  him  that  Grace 
had  seen  him  get  off  the  train  with  Virginia  and 
drive  away  with  her.  If  Preston  had  not  been 
there,  he  would  have  gone  back  and  insisted  upon 
an  explanation.  As  it  was,  the  only  thing  to  do 
was  to  go  home.  If  the  doctor  had  really  fixed 
things  for  him  once  again,  he  had  thoroughly 
muddled  them. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

BUDD'S  supposition  that  Grace  had  seen  him 
get  off  the  train  and  drive  away  with  Vir- 
ginia was  entirely  correct.  In  an  instant  her  sus- 
picions as  to  Jerry's  double-dealing  were  con- 
firmed. Budd  was  a  cad  again,  Jerry  a  deceiver; 
the  whole  world  was  against  her.  Not  unnaturally, 
therefore,  when  Budd  was  announced  she  was  out- 
raged at  the  insolence  of  such  a  proceeding. 

As  the  front  door  closed  on  him  Grace  came  out 
of  the  library  and  started  up-stairs.  Meanwhile  the 
maid  had  admitted  Preston.  They  met  face  to  face. 
She  was  not  sorry  to  see  him.  She  knew  that  Budd 
must  know  he  was  there.  If  she  still  had  the  power 
to  hurt,  she  was  going  to  use  it,  and  at  all  events 
Preston  could  cover  her  defeat. 

"Come  in,"  she  said.  "I  was  just  going  to  take 
off  my  hat.  Do  you  want  some  tea?" 

"No  tea,"  he  answered.  "I  can  only  stop  a 
minute.  I  came  in  to  see  you  about  our  golf  to- 
morrow." He  followed  her  into  the  drawing-room 
and  dropped  into  a  chair. 

"Don't  tell  me  you  're  going  to  chuck." 

"I  'm  afraid  I  '11  have  to,"  he  answered.     "Hon- 

277 


278  THE  BOOMERANG 

estly,  I  'm  simply  loaded  up  with  work.  My  desk 
looks  as  if  an  avalanche  had  buried  it." 

She  laughed  mockingly. 

"You  've  got  to  do  better  than  that." 

"It's  the  honest  fact,"  he  protested.  "Mr. 
Grant  is  away  at  Bar  Harbor,  Bruce  Gordon  is  in 
town,  and  the  whole  office  is  upside  down." 

"Is  Bruce  Gordon  a  client?" 

He  nodded. 

"For  all  that,"  she  said,  "I  've  never  known  you 
to  let  business  interfere  with  golf.  I  guess  the 
stories  that  I  hear  must  be  true." 

"What  stories?" 

"I  feel  very  much  hurt,"  she  went  on.  "I 
thought  that  naturally  I  'd  be  the  first  one  you  'd 
tell  about  it  and  now  I  find  out  that  for  two  weeks 
you  've  been  busy  and  not  a  word." 

"This  town  is  some  place  for  news,"  observed 
Preston,  cautiously. 

"I  saw  her  last  night,"  Grace  continued.  "I 
thought  she  was  lovely." 

"I  don't  see  that  you  need  to  be  told  anything," 
he  said  grimly. 

"Oh,  my,  we  've  only  begun!"  cried  Grace.  "In 
the  first  place,  I  want  to  know  how  you  met  her?  I 
never  supposed  that  you  were  very  intimate  with 
the  Woodbridges." 


THE  BOOMERANG  279 

"Are  you  kiddin'?" 

"Not  in  the  least.  I  want  to  know.  I  suppose 
you  '11  say  it  was  business." 

"It  was." 

"So  she 's  a  client  too?" 

"In  a  way." 

"But  I  thought  she  was  a  penniless,  self-support- 
ing nurse.  People  like  that  don't  go  to  you." 

Preston  looked  at  her  and  laughed. 

"Can  you  keep  a  secret?" 

"I  'm  a  tomb,  as  you  ought  to  know." 

"Well,  as  they  say  in  melodrama,  she's  not 
what  she  appears  to  be.  The  fact  is  she  's  a  long- 
lost  orphan  or,  rather,  the  long-mislaid  niece  of  a 
prosperous  uncle." 

"And  the  uncle?" 

"The  uncle  happens  to  be  Bruce  Gordon." 

Grace  gasped.  The  significance  of  this  an- 
nouncement was  the  same  to  her  as  it  had  been  to 
Jerry.  She  knew  Preston  too  well  to  have  any 
doubt  as  to  his  probable  intentions  toward  Bruce 
Gordon's  niece.  The  possibility  that,  after  all, 
Jerry  had  told  her  the  truth  flashed  upon  her. 

"But  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing!"  she 
cried. 

"One  rarely  does  hear  of  such  a  thing,"  he  said 
quietly. 


280  THE  BOOMERANG 

"But  how  was  she  discovered?" 

"Well,  it  seems  that  her  mother  married  a  Swiss 
rather  against  the  wishes  of  the  family  and  died 
soon  after  the  daughter  was  born.  Two  or  three 
years  later  her  father  was  killed  in  a  railway  acci- 
dent, and  the  girl  was  brought  up  by  his  sister. 
The  sister  married  recently,  as  women  sometimes 
do,  and  the  girl  decided  to  seek  her  fortune  and 
hunt  up  her  grandmother.  When  she  got  to  Elm- 
ford  she  found  that  Grandmother  Gordon  was  a 
blessed  memory.  Apparently  she  had  never  heard 
of  Uncle  Bruce,  and  funds  being  low,  she  started 
in  to  support  herself.  She  got  a  job  in  Sumner's 
office  and,  rumor  has  it,  was  installed  by  him  at 
the  Woodbridges'  to  revive  Budd  from  a  hitherto 
unsuspected  attack  of  the  pip." 

They  exchanged  glances,  and  Preston  went  on: 

"Mrs.  Woodbridge,  who  had  known  her  mother, 
was  struck  by  the  resemblance  of  the  girl  to  her 
old  friend,  questioned  her,  and  the  story  came  out. 
Mr.  Gordon  was  notified,  proofs  of  identity  were 
sent  on,  and  to-day  Miss  Xelva  went  to  New  York 
to  see  him.  After  the  manner  of  the  great,  he 
took  it  into  his  head  to  come  to  Elmford  without 
letting  us  know  about  the  change  of  plans;  so  they 
crossed  on  the  road,  and  I  've  had  the  pleasant  job 
of  explaining  how  it  was  all  my  fault.  I  've  tele- 


THE  BOOMERANG  281 

phoned  her  to  take  the  first  train  back.  So  I  hope 
that  by  this  time  all  is  well." 

"Did  Budd  take  her  to  New  York?"  Grace  asked 
shortly. 

"I  don't  think  so.  As  far  as  I  know  no  one  knew 
she  was  going.  The  ridiculous  girl  was  not  at  all 
sure  that  she  wanted  to  see  or  have  anything  to  do 
with  Uncle  Bruce;  so  she  kept  the  whole  matter  very 
quiet." 

"But  why?" 

"You  can  search  me.  Mrs.  Woodbridge  tells 
me  that  she  's  very  much  interested  in  her  work  as 


a  nurse." 


Grace  shot  him  a  sudden  look. 

"I  see,"  she  observed.  "She  's  the  new  type 
that  wants  to  be  free  and  self-supporting." 

"Something  like  that,"  he  assented. 

"Well,  isn't  this  wonderful!"  said  Grace, 
sweetly.  "And  besides  being  rich,  she  's  so  delight- 
ful, Really,  Preston,  it  makes  me  believe  that 
these  things  are  really  arranged  in  heaven." 

"I  think  that 's  enough,"  he  said  shortly.  "Of 
course  I  've  only  known  Miss  Xelva  in  a  business 
way,  but  I  've  seen  enough  of  her  to  make  me 
realize  that  she  's  a  very  fine  person,  and  I  don't 
want  to  be  joshed  about  her." 

"Joshed?"  repeated  Grace,     "Don't  think  for  a 


282  THE  BOOMERANG 

minute  I  'm  joshing.  It 's  all  too  wonderful. 
Why,  it 's  like  a  miracle.  Just  the  right  girl  for 
you  drops  out  of  the  skies,  and  you  fall  in  love 
with  her  and  she  with  you — wedding  bells  and 
curtain.  It 's  perfect.  No  wonder  you  can't  play 
golf  with  me  to-morrow." 

"Suppose  we  change  the  subject,"  said  Preston, 
firmly.  "Speaking  of  other  things,  I  met  Budd 
as  I  came  in.  I  hope  you  gave  him  a  good  time." 

"Speaking  of  Budd,"  she  answered  calmly, 
"are  n't  you  a  little  worried  at  having  him  in  the 
same  house  with  her?" 

Preston  laughed  heartily — a  circumstance  which 
gave  Grace  a  satisfaction  of  which  the  laugher  was 
unaware. 

"Yes,  I  'm  worried,"  he  said,  "but  I  'm  bearing 
up.  You  ought  not  to  make  me  laugh  that  way," 
he  added.  "Poor  little  Budd!  He  isn't  a  bad 
fellow  at  that.  You  've  handed  it  to  him  pretty 
raw,  Grace.  Why  don't  you  let  him  go  away  and 
get  over  it?" 

Grace's  eyes  flashed  dangerously,  but  she  smiled. 

"I  'm  glad  you  like  him." 

"Of  course  I  like  him,"  he  answered  patroniz- 
ingly. "Why  should  n't  I?" 

"Well,  then,  I  '11  tell  you  something,"  she  went 
on.  "There  's  more  good  in  Budd's  little  finger 


THE  BOOMERANG  283 

than  in  your  whole  body.  You're  clever  and 
amusing,  but  you  're  cold-blooded  as  a  fish. 
Heaven  help  the  woman  that  marries  you!" 

"But  why  the  anger?"  he  asked,  with  an  aston- 
ished look.  "What  have  I  done?  Wrath  makes 
you  very  beautiful,  but  even  that  should  n't  be  al- 
lowed to  blind  your  judgment.  The  fish,  my  dear, 
is  a  model  husband,  clean,  never  in  the  way,  never 
jealous.  To  be  called  a  fish  is  a  compliment. 
It's  almost  a  pity  you  didn't  decide  to  marry 
me,"  he  added  gaily.  "You  would  have  grown  to 
prize  my  finny  charms. 

She  looked  at  him  scornfully.  How  could  a 
girl,  able  to  choose  between  such  a  man  and  a 
brave,  clean,  simple-hearted  boy  like  Budd,  hesi- 
tate? With  a  sense  of  alarm  it  occurred  to  her 
that  Virginia  might  also  have  arrived  at  a  simi- 
lar conclusion. 

"I  suppose  it  is  a  pity,"  she  observed,  repressing 
the  comment  that  was  on  her  tongue.  "However, 
life  is  full  of  just  such  tragedies." 

He  sighed  ironically  and  rose. 
"I  must  be  going.     Perhaps  we  can  get  some  golf 
next  week.     I  '11  telephone  if  I  can  get  a  free  after- 
noon. 

"It  would  be  nice,"  she  said  icily  and  bade  him 
good  night. 


284  THE  BOOMERANG 

When  he  had  gone  Grace  stood  in  the  empty 
room,  rigid,  her  breath  coming  fast.  Suddenly, 
like  a  sleep-walker,  she  turned  with  measured 
steps  and  went  up-stairs.  She  closed  the  door  of 
her  room  behind  her  and  took  the  telephone  re- 
ceiver from  the  hook.  The  number  she  called 
answered. 

"Hartley,"  she  said,  "I  want  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Budd."  She  waited  tensely.  A  voice  came  over 
the  wire. 

"Is  that  you,  Budd?"  she  asked  in  low,  tremu- 
lous tones. 

The  voice,  equally  tremulous,  assured  her  that  it 
was.  "Budd  dear,"  she  went  on,  "I  was  sorry  not 
to  see  you  just  now.  Can  you  come  in  after  din- 
ner?" 

A  stammered  question  was  asked. 

"Yes,  of  course  I  shall  be  alone.  You  '11 
come?" 

As  the  answer  reached  her  she  laughed  nerv- 
ously. 

"You  dear!"  she  murmured.     "At  eight." 

She  replaced  the  receiver  and  sat  gazing  with 
unseeing  eyes  through  the  window  that  commanded 
the  old  garden.  The  dusk  fell  and  deepened,  and 
still  she  sat  till  her  mother's  maid  knocked  and 
asked  her  what  she  would  wear  for  dinner. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

WHEN  Jerry  turned  his  car  toward  the  open 
country  he  was  in  much  the  same  situation 
as  the  gentleman  of  the  song,  who  with  no  definite 
idea  of  a  terminus  was  "on  his  way."  As  his 
speed  ranged  from  thirty  to  sixty  miles  an  hour 
in  defiance  of  both  law  and  public  safety,  he  was 
likely  to  arrive  somewhere,  if  only  in  a  jail  or  a 
hospital.  The  fact  was  that  he  was  obeying  a 
blind  impulse  to  get  away  from  Elmf ord,  much  as 
Budd  had  obeyed  a  similar  impulse  earlier  in  the 
day.  And  it  was  a  sudden  recognition  of  this  an- 
alogy that  restored  to  him  a  measure  of  reasonable- 
ness. 

"Think  of  me  giving  the  kid  advice!"  he  mut- 
tered. "Some  nerve,  eh?"  He  laughed  despite 
himself.  When  a  man  can  laugh  he  has  taken  the 
first  step  toward  getting  his  troubles  in  hand. 

He  eased  down  to  forty  as  a  maximum  and  con- 
tinued over  a  lonely  stretch  of  hill  country,  com- 
muning with  himself  upon  the  futility  of  human 
wisdom  in  general  and  his  own  in  particular.  As 
he  climbed  a  long  grade,  a  sudden  report,  followed 

by  an  ominous  bumping,  caused  him  to  pull  up  by 

285 


286  THE  BOOMERANG 

the  side  of  the  road,  and  he  got  out  to  confront  the 
broken  tire.  A  prolonged  period  of  exercise  with 
a  leaky  pump  stiffened  his  philosophy  more  than 
the  new  tire.  If  Virginia  was  lost  to  him,  she  was 
lost.  Life  had  to  go  on,  and  the  sooner  he  picked 
up  the  dropped  stitches  the  sooner  his  individual 
piece  of  knitting  would  be  in  order.  That  was  all 
there  was  to  it.  He  got  the  tube  inflated  to  the 
point  where  it  would  carry  him  to  the  next  garage, 
put  his  tools  away,  and  wiped  his  hands  with  a 
piece  of  waste.  Before  starting  the  car  again,  he 
re-read  Marchbank's  letter. 

There  was  something  in  the  fateful  opportune- 
ness of  Marchy's  arrival  and  the  Wyoming  project 
that  cheered  him.  The  universe  had  not  over- 
looked him  entirely.  Engaged  in  such  reflections, 
the  possibility  of  running  down  to  New  York  and 
bringing  Marchbanks  back  to  Elmford  suddenly  oc- 
curred to  him.  He  looked  at  his  watch,  ran  on 
to  the  next  village,  and,  making  inquiries  as  to  his 
whereabouts,  found  that  he  was  within  twelve  miles 
of  Bridgeport.  He  had  his  tire  blown  up,  filled 
his  gasolene  tank,  and  set  out.  A  little  before  five 
he  drew  up  before  a  hotel  in  Manhattan.  Five 
minutes  later  with  the  assistance  of  a  page  he  dis- 
covered the  illustrious  Marchbanks,  solitary,  par- 
taking of  tea  and  muffins  in  the  palm  garden. 


THE  BOOMERANG  287 

Except  in  Latin  countries,  where  men  kiss  each 
other,  and  in  novels,  the  ceremony  of  greeting  be- 
tween long-parted  friends  is  apt  to  be  disappoint- 
ing. Marchbanks  set  down  his  tea-cup  with  delib- 
eration. 

"Well,  I  '11  be  blessed!"  he  observed. 

"Cut  out  this  muffin  business,"  said  Jerry,  "and 
get  a  bag  packed.  We  '11  get  to  Elmford  for  din- 
ner. I  've  got  a  car  outside." 

"Does  it  mean  Wyoming?" 

Jerry  nodded,  and  with  a  regretful  glance  at  the 
abandoned  tea-table  Marchbanks  rose  and  fol- 
lowed his  captor.  Fifteen  minutes  later  they  were 
off.  As  they  got  clear  of  the  city  and  sped  north- 
ward, Marchbanks  began  a  laconic  recital  of  his 
adventures  since  the  night  of  their  parting  in  Lu- 
cerne. 

"A  simple,  sordid  tale,"  he  concluded.  "And 
now  it 's  your  turn.  As  I  understand  it,  you  've 
become  a  decent,  industrious,  country  doctor." 

"All  of  that,"  said  Jerry. 

"And  still  single?" 

Jerry  nodded. 

Marchbanks  yawned. 

"It  was  a  great  pity  you  did  n't  stop  and  marry 
the  girl  with  the  wounded  aunt.  She  was  really 
a  nice  girl.  Mildway  saw  her  again  the  next  day. 


288  THE  BOOMERANG 

X 

He  was  for  looking  up  the  consul  and  getting  pre- 
sented to  her  people.  I  would  n't  have  it,  though. 
Seemed  disloyal  to  you.  You  ought  to  go  back 
this  winter  and  finish  it  up." 

"Perhaps  I  will,"  said  Jerry. 

"I  'm  serious  about  it,"  observed  Marchbanks, 
ducking  down  behind  the  windshield  to  light  a 
cigarette.  "I  've  changed  a  lot  about  that  sort  of 
thing — take  it  seriously  now.  Believe  a  man  ought 
to  marry  and  settle  down." 

"Did  this  occur  to  you  on  the  steamer?"  asked 
Jerry,  significantly. 

Marchbanks  grinned. 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  say  that;  only  as  a  general 
principle  I  'm  for  it." 

"As  a  general  principle  it's  rot!"  said  Jerry, 
savagely. 

"God  bless  me!"  said  Marchbanks,  looking  at 
him  in  surprise.  "I  did  n't  know  you  were  a 
woman-hater.  Is  this  the  result  of  medicine  or 
life  in  Elmford?" 

"It 's  common  sense,"  said  Jerry.  Then  chang- 
ing the  subject  with  some  abruptness,  he  demanded, 
"What  are  you  going  to  shoot  with,  an  American 
30-30  or  a  Lee-Metford?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Marchbanks  answered  vaguely. 
"I  've  got  a  lot  of  stuff  in  my  kit.  I  '11  get  you  to 


THE  BOOMERANG  289 

pick  me  out  the  right  thing.  But,  I  say,  why  do 
you  announce  it 's  common  sense?" 

"What  else  is  it?" 

Marchbanks  gazed  at  him  doubtfully  and  made 
no  rejoinder.  A  moment  later  he  tossed  his  ciga- 
rette away,  put  up  the  collar  of  his  overcoat,  and 
withdrew  into  his  own  thoughts. 

The  dusk  had  begun  to  fall.  Jerry  bent  for- 
ward, turned  on  the  headlights  and,  pressing  his 
foot  on  the  accelerator,  watched  the  speed  climb  up 
till  the  indicator  hung  trembling  close  to  fifty. 
The  miles  sped  by.  Village  after  village  was 
passed  and  left  behind.  The  tires  held  up,  the 
engine  ran  like  clockwork,  and  at  half  past  seven 
the  two  motorists  drew  up  before  the  lighted  win- 
dows of  the  old  Sumner  mansion. 

"We  're  here,"  said  Jerry,  shortly.  "While  I 
think  of  it,  you  needn't  mention  Wyoming  till  I 
tip  you  off.  I  have  n't  broken  it  to  the  governor." 

Marchbanks  nodded. 

"Perhaps  I  ought  to  explain  a  little  more  about 
this  expedition.  Of  course  the  shooting  is  to  be 
the  main  thing,  but  you  won't  mind  if  we  run  down 
for  a  bit  to  a  place  called  Cheyenne?" 

"I  think  I  should  mind  a  good  deal,"  said  Jerry. 
"Why  Cheyenne?" 

"Well,"  said  Marchbanks,  with  an  evident  effort, 


290  THE  BOOMERANG 

"you  see,  that  girl  you  spoke  about  my  meetin9  on 
the  ship  lives  out  there." 

Jerry  stopped  with  the  latch-key  in  the  keyhole 
and  stared  at  him. 

"Her  people  were  very  decent,"  Marchbanks 
went  on.  "Asked  me  to  look  'em  up  if  I  was  ever 
passing  through." 

"You  poor  mutt!"  said  Jerry,  hopelessly.  "So 
that 's  how  it  is?" 

"Well,  something  like  that,"  said  Marchbanks. 
"Don't  think  I  'm  backing  out  about  the  shootin', 
but  why  can't  we  do  both?" 

"Marchy,"  said  Jerry,  soberly,  "you  never 
can  do  both!  Cut  it  out.  You  're  making  the 
great  mistake  of  your  life.  Let 's  switch  to  New 
Brunswick  and  have  a  go  at  moose." 

"You  're  not  going  to  go  back  on  me?"  March- 
banks  cried  in  alarm. 

"I  'm  going  to  take  you  shooting,"  Jerry  an- 
swered, "and  nothing  else.  When  you  know  what 
I  know,  you  '11  bless  me  to  the  end  of  time."  With 
that  he  opened  the  door  and  ushered  in  his  guest. 

The  unexpected  arrival  of  the  Hon.  Marchbanks 
produced  an  atmosphere  of  festivity  at  dinner,  and 
Jerry  was  grateful,  although  he  was  in  anything 
but  a  festive  state  of  mind  himself.  Marion  ap- 


THE  BOOMERANG  291 

peared  in  a  new  gown,  and  Marchbanks  enter- 
tained the  company  with  hitherto  unrelated  chap- 
ters of  Jerry's  adventures  abroad.  He  and  Marion 
seemed  to  hit  it  off  from  the  start,  a  circumstance 
that  kept  the  conversational  ball  rolling  without  as- 
sistance from  Jerry.  As  a  consequence  he  was 
able  to  occupy  himself  with  his  own  thoughts  with- 
out being  noticeably  distrait.  One  thing  that  per- 
plexed him  was  the  apparent  disappearance  of 
Bruce  Gordon.  He  had  expected  to  find  him  din- 
ing with  his  father. 

Jerry  surmised  that  Virginia  had  been  directed 
to  return  to  Elmford,  and  he  was  anxious  to  know 
the  result  of  her  meeting  with  her  uncle,  but  as 
Colonel  Sumner  made  no  mention  of  the  matter  he 
could  only  wait.  After  dinner  the  three  men  with- 
drew to  the  library  to  smoke.  Marion  went  to  the 
drawing-room  and  began  playing  the  piano.  Al- 
most immediately  Marchbanks  manifested  signs  of 
preferring  music  to  male  society  and,  laying  his 
cigar  on  the  ash-tray,  disappeared.  Shortly  after- 
wards there  issued  from  the  drawing-room  acoustic 
evidence  of  ragtime  duets. 

"He  plays  very  well,"  the  colonel  observed  be- 
nignly, unfolding  his  newspaper.  "A  nice  boy." 

"Don't  judge  him  by  his  box-beating,"  Jerry 


292  THE  BOOMERANG 

answered.  "He  's  a  better  fellow  than  that.  All 
he  needs  is  work,  and  from  what  he  tells  me  I  fancy 
he  's  going  to  get  it." 

"I  don't  suppose  work  hurts  any  of  us,"  said  the 
colonel,  with  a  smile.  He  glanced  over  his  glasses 
with  a  look  of  pride  at  his  son. 

Jerry  made  no  answer.  He  realized  that  to  an- 
nounce that  he  was  leaving  his  newly  established 
practice  for  a  month's  shooting  was  not  going  to  be 
easy. 

"Bruce  Gordon  was  very  much  pleased  at  the 
way  you  have  taken  hold,"  the  colonel  went  on. 
"By  the  way,  you  disappeared  very  suddenly  after 
lunch.  He  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about  the  hos- 
pital. You  see,  he  had  to  stop  over  to  see  Vir- 
ginia." 

"She  's  come  back?" 

"Yes.  He  telephoned  the  office  in  New  York. 
He  's  at  Caroline  Woodbridge's,  dining  with  her. 
She  must  be  rather  a  remarkable  girl,"  the  colonel 
continued.  "From  what  he  told  me  it  seems  that 
it  was  n't  so  much  a  question  of  whether  he  would 
accept  the  responsibilities  of  uncle  as  whether  she 
would  accept  the  emoluments  of  niece.  Appar- 
ently she  had  more  than  half  a  mind  to  go  on  sup- 
porting herself  with  what  she  called  her  'work.'  I 
think  Bruce  was  actually  as  nervous  about  making 


THE  BOOMERANG  293 

a  good  impression  on  her  as  a  fellow  who  's  going 
to  propose."  The  colonel  laughed  and  began  to 
read  his  paper. 

Jerry  rose,  crossed  the  room,  came  back,  and 
dropped  into  his  chair  again.  What  if  the  girl 
really  did  take  it  into  her  head  to  refuse  to  accept 
anything  from  her  uncle?  He  knew  she  was  quite 
capable  of  doing  it  if  it  seemed  the  right  thing  for 
her  to  do.  If  such  a  thing  actually  happened  and 
she  roused  Bruce  Gordon's  anger,  was  it  not  more 
than  likely  that  Preston  would  hold  off?  At  least 
the  probabilities  would  be  that  an  immediate  mar- 
riage would  be  out  of  the  question.  The  idea 
seemed  absurd,  yet  he  could  not  help  a  wild  hope 
rising  again. 

He  began  turning  over  in  his  mind  a  way  of  find- 
ing out  the  result  of  the  meeting  at  the  Wood- 
bridges'.  Doubtless  by  now  it  was  all  settled. 
Mrs.  Woodbridge  would  know,  but  he  could  not 
very  well  ring  her  up  and  ask  her. 

He  seized  the  other  evening  paper  and  forced 
himself  to  read  it  for  ten  minutes.  Then  he  tossed 
it  aside,  rose,  and  got  himself  a  fresh  cigar.  As  he 
was  biting  off  the  end,  he  heard  an  automobile 
drive  up,  and  stop  with  a  creaking  of  brakes.  It 
might  be  Gordon  returning  to  tell  of  his  failure. 
He  stood  breathless,  struck  a  match,  then  cursed 


294  THE  BOOMERANG 

himself  for  a  fool.  The  thing  he  was  hoping  for 
was  unthinkable,  and  yet —  The  front  door-bell 
sounded  faintly  from  the  depths  of  the  house.  In 
all  probability  it  was  some  friend  of  Marion's  run- 
ning in.  He  dropped  into  his  arm-chair  and 
puffed  at  the  partly  ignited  tobacco.  He  heard  the 
door  open  and  then  a  heavy  tread  in  the  hall.  The 
next  moment  the  huge  form  of  Bruce  Gordon  filled 
the  doorway. 

Colonel  Sumner  leaped  to  his  feet. 

"Well!  well!"  he  cried,  "everything  all  right? 
Sit  down  and  tell  us  about  it." 

"I  'm  catching  the  nine-thirty  to  town,"  said 
Gordon,  refusing  a  chair.  "I  thought  I  'd  look  in 
for  a  minute  and  say  good  night." 

"Don't  tell  me  you've  been  rejected?"  the 
colonel  cried,  laughing. 

The  big  man  smiled  grimly. 

"That 's  a  fine  girl,  Addison.     But  obstinate 


as—" 


"As  you  are,"  suggested  the  colonel. 

Gordon  tried  to  scowl,  but  ended  in  a  gruff 
chuckle. 

"I  tell  you  I  've  had  some  battle,  Addison.  If 
any  one  should  tell  you  that  child  has  n't  a  mind  of 
her  own,  don't  believe  it.  I  wouldn't  want  her 
on  a  hostile  board  of  directors." 


THE  BOOMERANG  295 

"But  what  was  the  matter?     Her  work?" 

"That  was  part  of  it.  Principally  though,  she 
seems  to  have  an  unalterable  objection  to  leaving 
Elmf  ord.  I  '11  be  hanged  if  in  the  end  I  did  n't 
have  to  compromise  on  letting  her  spend  half  her 
time  here.  As  she  's  only  lived  here  a  month,  I 
don't  understand  it,  unless — " 

"Unless  what?"  demanded  the  colonel. 

"Oh,  nothing,"  the  financier  answered.  "We  've 
got  it  patched  up.  I  want  you,  though,  to  keep  an 
eye  on  her  when  she  's  here." 

"Why  did  n't  you  bring  her  to  this  house,  bag 
and  baggage?"  the  colonel  demanded. 

"You  can  settle  that  with  her  and  Caroline," 
was  the  answer. 

"We  '11  go  down  and  get  her  this  minute.  I  '11 
order  the  car." 

"You  won't  have  much  luck  to-night,"  said  Gor- 
don, with  a  wry  face.  "She  's  got  a  young  man 
camping  in  the  parlor.  I  suspect  her  interest  in 
Elmf  ord  might  be  accounted  for  by  investigations 
in  that  direction.  However,  it 's  none  of  my  busi- 
ness. Good-by.  I  want  you  to  come  and  see  me 
the  first  of  next  week,  young  man,"  he  added,  with 
a  menacing  gesture  at  Jerry.  Then  he  was  gone. 

The  ragtime,  which  had  died  down  with  the  ring- 
ing of  the  door-bell,  started  up  again. 


296  THE  BOOMERANG 

"Well!  well!"  said  the  colonel,  benevolently, 
"isn't  that  splendid?  Who  do  you  suppose  he 
meant  by  the  young  man  camping  in  the  parlor?" 

"I  don't  know,"  answered  Jerry  and  picked  up 
the  newspaper  again.  The  drowning  man's  straw 
had  gone  under  as,  of  course,  he  knew  it  would. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  counsel  that  the  night  brought  to  Jerry  de- 
cided him  to  pack  his  kit  and  start  west  with 
scant  explanation  or  ceremony.  The  hospital 
could  wait.  There  were  plenty  of  young  doctors 
in  Elmford  who  would  take  charge  of  his  practice 
for  a  consideration.  To  his  father  he  would  plead 
a  long-standing  engagement  with  Marchbanks  for 
a  big-game  expedition.  The  colonel  had  taken  a 
liking  to  Marchbanks  and  would  be  likely  to  accede 
to  the  view  that  hospitality  demanded  sacrifices. 

The  breakfast-table  gaiety  of  Marion  and  the 
guest  appeared  to  Jerry  unseemly,  but  he  bore  it 
with  fortitude  till  Marchbanks  began  on  a  third 
helping  of  marmalade.  At  this  point  he  rose  and 
lighted  a  cigarette. 

"I  think  I  '11  leave  you  children,"  he  said,  "and 
when  you  can  tear  yourself  from  this  scene  of  glut- 
tony," he  added  to  the  colonel,  "I  'd  like  to  speak  to 
you  for  a  minute.  I  '11  be  in  the  library." 

As  he  passed  through  the  hall,  Emile  appeared 
in  the  doorway  leading  to  the  offices. 

"Could  you  see  Mr.  Woodbridge?"  he  asked. 

297 


298  THE  BOOMERANG 

"He  say  he  was  sorry  to  come  before  office  hour, 
but  he  was  very  anxious  to  see  you." 

Jerry  hesitated  and  then  turned  sharply. 

"I  '11  see  him,"  he  answered.  "Bring  him  into 
my  office." 

As  he  seated  himself  at  his  desk,  there  was  a 
clatter  in  the  hall,  and  Budd,  beaming  and  con- 
ducting himself  much  like  a  St.  Bernard  puppy 
with  a  dog  biscuit,  burst  in. 

"It 's  all  right!"  he  shouted  and,  seizing  Jerry  by 
the  hand,  began  to  pump  it  up  and  down. 

"I  presume  this  demonstration  indicates  that  you 
are  open  to  congratulations,"  observed  Jerry. 

"It  surely  does,"  said  Budd.  "I  came  back  just 
as  you  advised  me  to,  and  last  night — " 

"She  proposed  to  you." 

"Well,  I  '11  be  hanged!  How  did  you  know 
that?" 

Jerry  laughed. 

"That  must  be  a  secret  because,  while  ladies  very 
often  do  it,  they  don't  like  to  have  it  talked  about." 

"Of  course  she  did  n't  really  ask  me  to  marry 
her,"  said  Budd. 

"Of  course  not,"  said  Jerry.  "And,  after  all,  the 
only  thing  that  matters  is  that  it 's  done.  Well, 
my  son,"  he  went  on,  "I  wish  you  luck,  lots  of  it 
and  for  always." 


THE  BOOMERANG  299 

"We  both  of  us  feel  as  if  we  owed  it  all  to  you," 
the  boy  said  shyly.  "You  're  the  only  person  out- 
side the  family  we  've  told." 

"Stuff!"  said  Jerry. 

"But  it 's  the  fact!  If  it  was  n't  for  that  serum 
that  went  after  the  jealousy  bugs  and  the  good 
advice  you  gave  me  I  guess  I  'd  have  been  in  the 
discard  by  now.  You  're  a  wonderful  man, 
Doctor!" 

"Now,  look  here!"  Jerry  began.  For  a  moment 
he  considered  disclosing  the  nature  of  the  serum 
and  the  general  futility  of  human  reason  as  applied 
to  Budd's  complaint. 

"But  there  is  n't  any  doubt  about  it,"  Budd  in- 
terrupted. "It's  all  due  to  you.  You  don't  re- 
alize what  it  is  to  have  helped  a  fellow  out  of  the 
muss  I  was  in.  You  see,  very  few  men  understand 
that  sort  of  thing  the  way  you  do." 

Jerry  sat  back  helplessly  in  his  chair.  What 
could  he  say? 

"I'm  glad  you're  happy!"  he  mumbled. 
"She  's  a  fine  girl." 

"The  best,"  assented  Budd.  He  glanced  at  his 
watch  and  grinned.  "I  'm  late,"  he  added. 
"She  's  expecting  me  at  ten,  and  I  've  got  to  hustle 
down  to  the  florist's  first.  This  being  really  en- 
gaged is  some  responsibility!"  He  turned  to  go, 


300  THE  BOOMERANG 

but  suddenly  stopped.  The  door  had  swung  open, 
and  standing  in  the  doorway  was  Virginia.  She 
looked  inquiringly  from  one  to  the  other. 

"Am  I  interrupting?"  she  asked. 

"Budd  has  just  been  telling  me  he  's  engaged," 
said  Jerry,  with  an  effort  to  be  casual. 

Virginia  uttered  an  exclamation  of  delight. 

Budd  grinned. 

"Of  course  I  want  you  to  know,  Virgie,"  he  said 
doubtfully,  "but  I  really  ought  not  to  be  talking  to 
you.  You  see,  she  does  n't  want  me  to.  She  thinks 
you  and  I  were  in  love  with  each  other.  That 's 
what  made  her  cry  the  other  night." 

"But  surely  you've  told  her!"  said  Virginia, 
somewhat  anxiously. 

"Of  course  I  have,  and  she  says  she  believes  me, 
but  just  the  same  she  does  n't  want  me  to  see  much 
of  you." 

A  peal  of  mirthless  laughter  burst  from  Jerry. 

"Is  n't  it  the  helping  hand  that  always  gets 
burned?"  he  shouted.  "Of  course  you  know  it  was 
Miss  Xelva  that  pulled  your  chestnuts  out  of  the 
fire,"  he  went  on  to  Budd.  "This  is  a  nice  way  to 
thank  her  for  it." 

"But  what  can  I  do?"  Budd  asked,  helplessly 
turning  to  Virginia.  "You  wait  till  you  're  actu- 
ally engaged  and  you  '11  understand  all  right." 


THE  BOOMERANG  301 

Jerry's  quick  eye  noted  a  deepening  of  the  girl's 
color. 

"Budd,  I  can  only  congratulate  you  and  wish 
you  every  happiness,  and,"  she  added,  "avoid  con- 
taminating you." 

He  took  her  offered  hand,  shook  it  gingerly,  and 
bounded  out. 

When  they  were  alone,  she  stood  a  moment  in 
silence.  Their  eyes  met,  and  then  shifted  their 
gaze. 

"Well,  that's  settled,"  said  Jerry,  grimly. 
"Our  first  case  and,  I  suppose,  our  last." 

"It  was  very  wonderful  the  way  you  treated  it," 
she  said  soberly.  "I  confess  I  did  n't  believe  you 
were  right  at  the  beginning,  but  it  turned  out  just  as 
you  said  it  would.  You  have  a  very  extraordinary 
understanding  of  that  sort  of  thing." 

"I  'm  a  damned  fool!"  said  Jerry,  vehemently. 

She  looked  at  him  in  surprise,  but  a  surprise  that 
might  not  have  carried  conviction  to  a  disinterested 
observer. 

"I  don't  think  I  understand,"  she  said  meekly. 
"I  feel  as  if  I  ought  to  apologize  for  questioning 
what  you  told  me  the  night  of  the  dance." 

"You  mean  about  love  being  a  game?" 

She  nodded. 

"I  've  been  thinking  a  great  deal  about  it." 


302  THE  BOOMERANG 

"You  'd  better  forget  it!"  said  Jerry,  savagely. 
"It 'sail  infernal  rot!" 

"Why,  Dr.  Sumner!"  the  girl  exclaimed. 

"What  I  told  you  is  all  stuff  and  nonsense,"  he 
repeated. 

"But  I  don't  understand  what  has  changed  your 
opinions  so  quickly,"  she  said,  dropping  her 
eyes. 

"Listen  to  me,  Virginia,"  he  began.  "This  love 
business  is  a  serious  proposition.  One  can't  afford 
to  play  at  it.  I  have  n't  any  right  to  lecture  you  or 
to  volunteer  any  advice,  but  don't  make  any  mis- 
take about  what  I  've  just  told  you." 

She  glanced  at  him  from  under  her  lashes,  and  a 
faint  smile  flashed  in  her  eyes. 

"Of  course  you  're  probably  right,"  she  said 
vaguely,  "but  I  mustn't  take  your  time  talking 
about  such  inconsequential  things.  I  ran  in  this 
morning  to  get  some  books  I  'd  left  and  to  tell  you 
something.  I  wanted  you  to  be  the  first  to  know 
outside  of  Mrs.  Woodbridge." 

"Well?"  he  said  desperately.  He  gripped  the 
arms  of  the  chair.  It  occurred  to  him  that  if  he 
were  facing  a  firing-squad,  his  emotions  would  be 
similar  to  those  he  was  undergoing. 

"Well,"  she  began,  "it's  a  great  surprise.  It 
seems  that  my  mother's  brother  is  Mr.  Bruce  Gor- 


THE  BOOMERANG  303 

don.     He 's  been  very  kind  and  wants  me  to  live 
with  him  in  New  York." 

"I  know  about  that,"  he  said  casually.     "Go 


on." 


She  gazed  at  him  this  time  in  an  amazement  that 
was  unquestionably  genuine. 

"But  that 's  all,"  she  answered.  "I  feel  that  I 
ought  to  spend  part  of  the  year  with  him;  at  the 
same  time  I  want  to  go  on  with  my  work  in  Elm- 
ford."  She  studied  his  face  in  the  silence  that  fol- 
lowed. "What  did  you  expect  me  to  tell  you?"  she 
demanded. 

"Nothing." 

"Yes,  you  did,"  she  said  quickly.  "What  is 
it?" 

He  met  her  look  frankly. 

"Do  you  want  me  to  be  honest?" 

"Of  course  I  do." 

"Then  I  '11  tell  you.  It 's  only  this:  I  want  to 
be  the  first  to  be  told  when — when  there  is  some- 
thing to  be  told  about  you  and  Preston." 

"About  me  and  Mr.  De  Witt!"  she  cried  incred- 
ulously. 

"Yes." 

"But,  you  silly  man!"  she  burst  out,  "there  never 
could  be  anything  of  that  kind!  You  don't  sup- 
pose I  could  take  Mr.  De  Witt  seriously?" 


304  THE  BOOMERANG 

He  stared  at  her,  his  mouth  open,  his  mind  in- 
capable of  comprehending  what  his  ears  told  him. 
Then  he  rose  slowly  like  a  man  recovering  from  a 
blow  on  the  head. 

"Virginia,"  he  said  huskily,  "you  have  n't  been 
playing  this  love  game  with  me?" 

"I  consider  that  a  most  improper  question,"  she 
answered,  with  mock  defiance.  Her  eyes  were 
shining.  A  mysterious  radiance  seemed  to  ema- 
nate from  her  and  clothe  her  like  an  aureole. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  coming  here?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"Have  n't  I  a  right  to  come  to  a  doctor's  office?" 
she  retorted.  "How  do  you  know  but  what  I  came 
to  get  a  serum  treatment?"  She  stood  before  him, 
smiling  tremulously,  her  eyes  half  closed  and 
misty. 

"Virginia,  you  miserable  deceiver!"  he  cried, 
"you  know  that  I  love  you!  You've  known  it 
right  along!" 

She  made  no  denial.  Her  mocking  smile  had 
gone.  She  met  his  look  with  eyes  grave  and  ten- 
der. He  went  forward  and  opened  his  arms.  She 
stood  her  ground,  and  they  closed  about  her. 

Ten  minutes  later  they  were  sitting  side  by  side 
upon  the  sofa.  The  first  wave  of  passion  that  had 


THE  BOOMERANG  305 

held  them  speechless  was  passing.  He  found  his 
voice  again. 

"And  there  never  was  any  Preston  De  Witt?"  he 
asked. 

"Never,"  she  answered;  "only  you." 

"God  bless  you!"  he  muttered. 

"You  believe  me,  I  suppose,  like  Grace,  but  you 
don't  want  me  to  talk  to  him?"  she  said,  laughing. 

"Rub  it  in.  I  deserve  it,"  he  answered.  He 
stopped  as  he  heard  a  voice  from  the  passage  that 
led  to  the  house  calling,  "0  Jerry!" 

"It 's  Marchbanks,"  he  explained,  "an  old  friend 
of  mine.  He 's  just  blown  in  from  England." 
Then  he  answered  the  hail. 

A  moment  later  Marchbanks  burst  in,  took  one 
look  at  Virginia,  and  stood  rooted,  amazement 
written  on  his  countenance. 

"Miss  Xelva,"  said  Jerry,  "let  me  present  my 
friend  Mr.  Marchbanks." 

Marchbanks  bowed  low. 

"This  is  a  pleasure  long  deferred,"  he  said 
calmly.  "If  I  could  have  managed  it  I  should  have 
been  presented  that  day  we  were  fellow-travelers 
on  the  Lucerne  train.  Jerry,  you  miserable  fox," 
he  added,  "how  have  you  stage-managed  this  situa- 
tion?" 


306  THE  BOOMERANG 

Jerry  and  Virginia  gazed  dumfounded,  first  at 
Marchbanks,  then  at  each  other. 

"Were  you  the  girl  who  put  her  hand  out  and 
took  my  toothache  pills?"  Jerry  demanded. 

Virginia  nodded.  Without  speaking,  she 
dropped  back  upon  the  sofa  again,  her  eyes  fixed 
on  him. 

"God  bless  me!"  cried  Marchbanks,  with  crude, 
but  well-meant,  strategy,  "I  've  forgotten  my  cig- 
arette-case!" He  darted  back  to  the  house. 

"It 's  so  strange,"  Virginia  murmured.  "That 
day  I  first  came  to  the  office  I  knew  your  voice.  I 
thought — I  thought,"  she  went  on  haltingly,  "it 
must  have  been  that  I  'd  known  it  in  some  other 
life." 

"Perhaps  that,  too,  is  so,"  said  Jerry,  soberly. 
"It  would  be  no  stranger.  It  would  be  much 
less  strange,  in  fact.  It  would  account  for  so  much 
that  no  one  understands."  He  bent  down  and 
kissed  her. 

Naturally  there  was  no  Wyoming  expedition. 
Marchbanks  bore  the  blow  with  a  suspicious  resig- 
nation, and  announced  that  he  was  so  charmed  with 
Elmford  that  he  contemplated  getting  a  job  in  the 
plow  works,  which  he  did.  Budd  and  Grace  were 
married  in  November,  and  at  the  Yale-Harvard 
game  at  New  Haven  were  reported  en  route  for  Eu- 


THE  BOOMERANG  307 

rope.  About  the  same  time  Preston  De  Witt  ac- 
cepted a  junior  partnership  in  New  York,  where  his 
urbane  talents  had  a  larger  sphere  of  opportunity. 
As  for  Jerry  and  Virginia,  they  were  quietly  mar- 
ried at  Bruce  Gordon's,  and  shortly  afterwards  in- 
stalled themselves  in  the  old  house  at  Elmford, 
much  to  the  joy  of  that  good  man  and  indulgent 
parent,  the  colonel. 


THE    END 


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